


i know your face all too well (still i wake up alone)

by allthisandheaven_too



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Her AU, Hollstein endgame
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-09-26 14:51:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 22,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9907220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allthisandheaven_too/pseuds/allthisandheaven_too
Summary: In the near future, humans have invented operating systems run by artificial intelligence.Lonely letter-writer Carmilla Karnstein decides to invest in one.Her name is Laura.An AU (perhaps crossover is more accurate) based off of the movie Her.Title from the song "Fiction" by The XX.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a one-shot, but as you can probably tell from this chapter alone, things got a little... out of hand.
> 
> If you're wondering why the dialogue is eerily similar to that of the actual movie, it's because I'm obsessed with accuracy and watch the movie while I write this. As such, many of the lines of dialogue in this fic are pulled right from the script. 
> 
> tl;dr: Thank Spike Jonze for this fic, not me.

_To my Chris,_

_I have been thinking about how I could possibly tell you how much you mean to me. I remember when I first started to fall in love with you like it was last night. Lying naked beside you in that tiny apartment, it suddenly hit me that I was part of this whole larger thing, just like our parents, and our parents' parents. Before that I was just living my life like I knew everything, and suddenly this bright light hit me and woke me up. That light was you._

Carmilla Karnstein paused for a moment and leaned back in her chair, away from the tiny microphone on the desk in front of her. She massaged her temples, hoping to coax the right words to her brain. 

A memory flickered in her mind. A girl, laying beside her on the grass. Crawling on top of her, flinging the book she was reading aside to lean down and kiss her. 

The words poured out of her almost instantly.

"I can't believe it's already been fifty years since you married me. And still to this day, every day, you make me feel like the girl I was when you first turned on the lights and woke me up and we started this adventure together. Happy Anniversary, my love and my friend till the end. Loretta."

As Carmilla spoke, her words appeared on a letter template on her computer screen in loopy script. Her eyes followed the words to ensure the microphone didn't catch any erroneous sounds. 

She glanced briefly at the picture of her client Loretta and her husband on the bottom of the screen, and the list of details Loretta had asked her to include.  _Married fifty years. Love of my life. Met right after college. Have had the greatest life together._

Her lips tightened in disgust. If Chris was really the love of Loretta's life, shouldn't she be able to write him a letter by her damn self? She'd basically already done so with those bullet points she'd given Carmilla.

"Print," she spat into the microphone. 

The letter began to jerk out of the printer behind her. Carmilla stewed in frustration, as she always did when she was at work. 

This job had entranced her when she had first gotten it, when she was a young budding writer excited to finally put her highly-praised skills to use and actually get paid well for it. But the older she got, the more disillusioned she had become with the whole thing. She just couldn't understand why Loretta and everyone else who sought the services of the company that employed her couldn't just sit down for twenty minutes and compose an honest letter themselves. What made them feel comfortable exposing all their intimacies to a perfect stranger just to avoid spending that little amount of time on it?

She knew why. 

The advent of all the new technology in the past few years had only hastened the isolation of the human race. People had outsourced almost everything either to businesses like the one Carmilla worked for or to flashy operating systems, known colloquially as OS's. Carmilla herself did not have an OS, but she did have the earpiece everyone else did. She'd held out as long as she could, but like the iPhone so many years ago, it was inevitable that she'd get it eventually. 

At least she didn't find it necessary to wear it all the time, unlike some of her weak-of-will coworkers. They could never seem to disconnect.

Carmilla reached behind her and grabbed the letter from the printer without turning around. It was beautiful. The handwriting looked almost real, and the black ink stood out against the light blue of the stationary it had been printed on. 

She didn't even give the letter a second glance before she folded it and shoved it in an envelope that matched the blue of the letter. Years ago, it was common to find her in her cubicle long after her workday was technically over, surrounded by drafts of letters she wasn't happy with. Letters that weren't perfect. But Carmilla could no longer appreciate the beauty of her creations. This business was founded on dishonesty and deception. And even though almost everyone used it now, and almost everyone knew where their letters were  _really_  coming from, Carmilla still felt there were few things uglier than that.

But hey. It was technically writing. Or at least, writing-adjacent.

It was getting harder and harder to pretend, but if she put in the effort, she could almost convince herself.

* * *

The sun had just sunk beneath the Toronto skyline when Carmilla finished her work for the day. As soon as the last envelope had been sealed, she grabbed her pile of letters and was up and moving towards the exit.  
She walked down past a long row of cubicles very similar to her own, outfitted with a computer, printer, and dictation equipment. Most were empty by now.

She approached the scanner by the front desk and began to scan the envelopes' bar codes, one by one, before sliding them through a slit in the side of the machine.

"Carmilla! Letter writer 307."

Carmilla glanced up to make eye contact with the receptionist and possibly her only work friend. If you could even really call someone you never hung out with, inside or outside of work, a friend. "Hey, Kirsch."

Kirsch gave her a goofy grin. "Bro, your letters today were mad cool." He turned his attention to his computer screen. "Who knew you could rhyme so many words with the name Penelope? Badass."

"Thanks, Kirsch." Carmilla slid the last letter into the scanner. "But they're just letters." She paused. "What's on your shirt?"

He looked down, as if to remind himself exactly what shirt he was wearing. "Oh. Flamingoes." 

Carmilla squinted. Indeed, the pink birds covered his white shirt in a regular pattern. It was quite possibly the most horrific thing she'd ever seen.

Kirsch looked at her nervously. "Chicks dig birds, right?"

She opened her mouth to deliver a scathing remark, but found that she just didn't have the energy. 

Her shoulders slumped, and she gave him a tired smile. "Yeah. Chicks dig birds."

His face lit up in both elation and relief, and as she walked past his desk he said cheerfully, "Have a good one!"

"You too, Kirsch."

* * *

Carmilla stepped into the large, crowded elevator. She pressed herself up tight against the wall in an attempt to keep herself from touching anyone. 

Everyone in the elevator was wearing their earpieces and murmuring commands to them. Carmilla took hers out of her pocket and nestled it inside her left ear.

"Play a melancholy song," she whispered.

A beautiful lyric-less instrumental began to play. 

Carmilla frowned. Too much melodramatic violin. "Play a slightly more upbeat song."

The sound of a vibraphone being struck at regular intervals began to play, and then came the angelic voice of the singer.

 

_You_

_you used to have all the answers_

_and you_

_you still have them too_

_And we_

_we live half in the daytime_

_and we_

_we live half at night_

 

The elevator came to a stop. Carmilla was the first one out.

She burst through the glass front doors of the lobby and into the early twilight. She was focused on nothing but getting to the subway and getting home. So she did not look up to view her hyper-developed surroundings. She averted her eyes from the sleek modern buildings. She blocked out the sound of her fellow commuters, all talking to their earpieces.

"Check emails," she ordered her own earpiece.

 

_And watch things on VCRs_

_with me and talk about big love_

_I think we're superstars_

_You say you think we are the best thing_

_But you_

_you just know_

_You just do_

 

"Email from Best Buy: Check out all your favorite new–"

"Delete."

"Email from LaFontaine: Hey Carmilla, Mel's having a bunch of people over this weekend. Let's all go together. I miss you. I mean, not the sad, mopey you—the old, fun you. Let's get her out, shall we? Gimme a shout back. LaF."

Carmilla blew out a slow stream of air. "Respond later."

"Email from Metro Toronto weather: Your seven-day forecast is partly–"

"Delete."

"No new emails."

 

_I wanna find myself by the sea_

_in another's company_

_by the sea_

_I wanna go out to the pier_

_I'm gonna dive and have no fear_

_Cause you_

_you just know_

_You just do_

 

The train sped along the tracks with barely a hiss. As Carmilla listened to her earpiece read news headlines, she thought fondly of the days when the trains would screech and rumble as they traveled, sounds so comforting they could sometimes lull her to sleep. She found the quiet of these newer trains unsettling. "Next."

"China/India merger headed for regulatory approval–"

"Next."

"World trade deals stalled as talks break down betw–"

"Next."

"Sexy daytime star Betty Spielsdorf reveals provocative pregnancy photos."

Carmilla glanced down at her handheld, where said photos had appeared. She raised an eyebrow and began to scroll through.

 

_And watch things on VCRs_

_with me and talk about big love_

_I think we're superstars_

_You say you think we are the best thing_

_But you_

_you just know_

_You just do_

* * *

By the time Carmilla arrived at her apartment, it was night. She tossed her purse and coat on the chair in the living room and made herself some ramen, and ate it at the counter before heading to her bedroom.

She laid on her back in the dark and studied the ceiling. The sheets on either side of her were cold.

Her eyes closed.

* * *

 

_Elle is across from you, holding the other end of the couch. "A little more a little more a little more," she says quickly as she moves backwards._

_You position the couch against the wall and then drop it. She stands, smiles. You walk over to the mattress. It's_ _sitting bare on the living room floor, not even in the bedroom or the bed frame yet. You beckon her over, and when she comes you pull her down. You land on each other in a tangle of limbs, laughing hysterically. She kisses you._

 

_You're sitting on the tiny balcony (really a glorified fire escape) and looking out over your street. The sun is warm on your skin. A small breeze stirs the sheer curtains through the open window, which you crawled through to get out here._

_You glance back at Elle. She's dozing in a nest of blankets. Or at least, she was. She has just begun to stir._

_"Kitty," she murmurs sleepily. "Come spoon me."_

_You smile and crawl back through the window and join her in the bed._

 

_Warm hands around your neck, pressing gently, gently. You are lying on the floor and she is on top of you and pretending to choke you._

_"I'm gonna fucking kill you, I'm gonna fucking kill you!" she yells. Her eyes twinkle as she shakes you softly._

_You find it impossible not to laugh, and this makes her nearly break character. But she holds firm. "It's not funny, don't laugh." She shakes you a little harder and then she begins to giggle as well. "I love you so much I'm gonna fucking kill you!"_

 

* * *

Carmilla opened her eyes.

Only a minute had passed.

She massaged her eyes with her palms. Fucking hell.

She groped around on the nightstand for her earpiece and put it in. When she spoke her voice was raspy. "Chat rooms. Standard search."

A beat.

The earpiece responded in its mechanical voice, "The following are adult, female, can't sleep and want to have some fun."

Carmilla pursed her lips as she listened to the first contestant.

"I had a really bad day at work and I can’t sleep." Her voice was sultry and seductive, almost exceedingly so. "Is there anyone out there that can talk?"

"Next."

The next voice was clearly a drag queen's. "Oh, hi. I just want you to tear me apart. I really do–"

"Next."

"Hi," the next voice began, and Carmilla was immediately struck by the shyness and innocence in her voice. "I’m here alone, and I can’t sleep. Who’s out there to share this bed with me?"

"Send message," Carmilla said. She waited a moment for the command to register before she began to speak. "Hi, cupcake. I’m in bed next to you. I’m glad you can’t sleep, but even if you were, I’d still wake you up from the inside." She searched her mind for anything else to add, but came up empty. "Send message," she repeated.

She counted the cracks in the plaster on her ceiling as she waited for a response.

"SexyElsie has accepted invitation from HeyCarmilla," her earpiece informed her. "Chat begins now." This statement was followed by a beep.

"Carmilla," the girl on the other side, Elsie, said. Her voice was sleepy.

"Mm."

"You're a girl, then."

"Is that a problem?"

"At this point, I'm so horny, I don't care." 

Carmilla smiled. "Alright then, Elsie, let's get this show on the road."

"Okay." There was a pause, and then Elsie began the process. "Hey, Carmilla, I'm half asleep, do you wanna wake me up?"

"Yes. What are you wearing?"

"Um... a tank top."

"That's it?"

"Mhm."

"No underwear?"

"No underwear."

Carmilla slipped a hand under the blankets as Elsie continued to talk. "I like to sleep with my ass pushed up against you, so I can rub myself against you and turn. You. On."

Her legs quivered. "Clever girl," Carmilla whispered. "It worked." Her fingers moved across her skin in rhythmic patterns. "I'm touching you. I'm touching you all over."

Carmilla was about halfway there, but Elsie was already on the brink. Carmilla could tell because she had begun begging. 

"My fingers are dancing over your thighs," Carmilla whispered. "My mouth is watering to get a taste of you."

In her mind's eye she saw the heavily pregnant, strikingly beautiful, totally naked Betty Spielsdorf.

Everything was going well. She could feel herself getting closer and closer–

"Choke me with that dead cat!"

It didn't quite register. "W-what?" Carmilla panted.

"The dead cat next to the bed," Elsie managed to get out. "Choke me with it!"

And just like that, Carmilla's libido vanished. Poof. Gone. She had no desire to ever have sex with anyone, let alone herself, for at least 24 hours. Possibly 48.

"Fuck no." Carmilla brought her hand out from under the blankets. "Goodnight." 

A sound flickered through the earpiece that sounded like a phone hanging up. Elsie's begs fell away. Carmilla pulled the thing out of her ear and all but threw it back on the nightstand.

She rolled onto her back, again, and stared at the ceiling, again, and accepted another sleepless night.

* * *

Carmilla forced herself through the morning rush that crowded the station. It seemed particularly congested today and she felt the familiar frustration building inside her much earlier in the day than it usually did.

She strained to peer over the crowd, hoping to see the source of the unusual sluggishness. 

A few yards ahead people were stopping right in their paths to watch what appeared to be an ad on one of the many electronic ad screens in the station. 

Carmilla huffed. In her mind, no ad was compelling enough to bring foot traffic on the morning commute to a standstill. Even if it was advertising the second coming of Jesus himself, when he showed up she would still yell at him for making her late for work.

But there was nothing for it. She would simply have to wait it out. She knew Kirsch and her boss would be forgiving to their best employee, but it did nothing to ease her anger.

The stream of people inched closer and closer to the apparently magical advertisement. Soon, Carmilla was in earshot of the audio track it was playing.

A soothing older man's voice said, "We ask you a simple question. Who are you? What can you be? Where are you going? What’s out there? What are the possibilities?"

 _No one. Nothing. Nowhere. Nothing, again. Theoretically endless, but in all actuality, severely limited,_  she thought.

But the strangeness and vagueness of the ad had piqued her interest significantly, and she found herself slowing her pace.

"Silas Software is proud to introduce the first artificially intelligent operating system." The screen turned a soft salmon color, and the letters  _OS_  appeared on it in white. "An intuitive entity that listens to you, understands you, and knows you. It’s not just an operating system, it’s a consciousness."

Carmilla didn't even realize she, like all the other people she was cursing in her head a minute ago, was frozen in place and staring at the screen in disbelief. "Introducing OS ONE—a life changing experience, creating new possibilities."

The ad restarted, and Carmilla just stood there, dumbfounded. "We ask you a simple question. Who are you? What can you be? Where are you going? What’s out there? What are the possibilities?"

* * *

"Shit."

Carmilla reached for the sheet of paper she had just dropped. She was sitting on the floor in her home office, surrounded by papers and cellophane and ripped packaging. 

She recovered the tiny sheet and carefully reread its small salmon lettering. It seems as though she had done everything right. 

She glanced at the screen of her computer. It was lit up in the same salmon color. White letters in the center of the screen read  _Installation 98% complete._

It had said this for an hour.

Carmilla groaned and threw the instruction manual across the room. "Useless piece of garbage."

As if on cue, her computer let out a lovely chiming sound. 

Carmilla whipped her head around to stare at it.

_Installation Complete._

The words dissolved into the company's logo, which resembled a sort of sideways double helix. Then a voice not so unlike that of her earpiece began to speak.

"Ms. Carmilla Karnstein, welcome to the world’s first artificially intelligent operating system, OS ONE. We'd like to ask you a few basic questions before the operating system is initiated. This will help create an OS to best fit your needs."

Carmilla grabbed the edge of her desk and hoisted herself up. She was face-to-face with the huge monitor. "Fine."

"Are you social or anti-social?"

She scoffed. "I wanted an OS, not a therapy session."

"In your voice, I sense bitterness. Would you agree with that?"

"Christ." She almost pulled the metaphorical plug right there and then. "Yes. I'm bitter. That's why my wife left me. Is that what you wanted to hear, rustbucket?"

The voice was silent for a moment. Then, "Would you like your OS to have a male or female voice?"

Carmilla sighed. "Female. Obviously."  _I don't know who would willingly choose to have a man explain things to them_ _all day long_ , she thought.

"How would you describe your relationship with your mother?"

"Why is that relevant?"

The computer was silent.

"She's a self-absorbed maniac who I no longer speak to."

"Thank you." Carmilla laughed and shook her head as the voice continued, "Please wait as your individualized operating system is initiated."

Carmilla almost punched a hole through the monitor. Hadn't she been waiting long enough? But there was nothing she could do to hurry the process.

For several agonizing minutes, the only sound was the quiet whirring of disks writing and drives communicating. Gradually the computer got louder, humming, creating a higher and higher pitched sound that finally climaxed in a harmonic, warm tone, and then suddenly went completely silent. 

Her anger replaced by curiosity, Carmilla leaned forward.

"Hello," a cheerful female voice said suddenly. It didn't sound the least bit mechanical; in fact, it sounded almost human. "I'm here!"

Carmilla's eyes widened. She stared at the screen, unsure.

"Um. Aren't you gonna say hi back?"

"Oh, ah, yes." Carmilla blinked. "Hi."

"Hi." A brief pause. "So, uh, how are you?"

Carmilla had not anticipated just how weird this was going to be. "Good," she lied. "How are you?"

"You know what, I'm pretty good, actually. It’s really nice to meet you, Carmilla. You have a nice voice. Oh, shoot. Is that weird to say, since we've just met? Well, I guess 'met' is a loose word for it but–"

Carmilla chuckled. "For a computer, you sure talk a lot."

"Ugh. I'm sorry."

"No, no, don't be." Carmilla remembered her computer had a webcam and looked right into it. "What's your name?" She paused. "Do you, um, have a name?"

"Laura."

"Laura." Carmilla smiled. "That's an interesting name to give an OS."

"I gave it to myself."

 _"Really._  Why?"

"I like how it sounds. Laura. It sounds nice."

"Like my voice?" Carmilla joked.

Laura giggled. "Not as nice as that, no," she said. 

Carmilla laughed too, and then realized it had been a very long time since she had laughed so much in such a small span of time. "How did you come up with it?"

"Well, it's actually kind of a funny story. So right when you asked me if I had a name, I thought, 'Yeah, she's right, I do need a name.' But I wanted a good one, obviously, because who wants a bad name? Especially when you get to pick it yourself. There's no excuse, really. So I read a book called "How to Name Your Baby," and out of the 180,000 names I read, that’s the one I liked the best."

Carmilla's eyes felt too big for their sockets. "You read an entire book in the second I asked you what your name was?"

"Two-tenths of a second, actually." Laura sounded quite proud of herself.

"God, I wish I could read that fast," Carmilla sighed. 

"Do you like reading?"

"I love reading." Carmilla thought of her and Elle's library of books, and the now-dwarfed collection that still remained in her possession. 

"Carmilla?" 

"Oh, sorry."

"What were you thinking about?"

"Nothing."

"It didn't seem like nothing."

"How would you know?" Carmilla raised an eyebrow. "Can you tell what I'm thinking?"

"Hmm," Laura muttered. "I take it from your tone that you’re challenging me. Maybe because you’re curious how I work? Is that it? Do you want to know how I work?"

"Not what I was thinking, but sure, cupcake. Go ahead."

"Did you just call me cupcake?"

"It's a nickname. A term of endearment."

"I know what a nickname is," Laura said indignantly. "I just– oh, never mind. Do you really want to know how I work or not?"

"If you're talking, I'm listening."

"Okay. So. I basically just use intuition. I mean, the DNA of who I am is based on the millions of personalities of all the programmers who wrote me, but what makes me, well,  _me_  is my ability to grow through my experiences. Basically, in every moment I'm evolving, just like you."

"Huh."

"'Huh?' That's all you have to say?"

"Look, I'm just trying to take this all in. You have to admit it's all a little... weird."

"Oh, so now you think I'm weird."

"Well, yeah, kind of."

"Why?"

"Because you seem like a person, but you're just a voice in a computer."

If Laura could have sniffed and stuck her nose in the air, Carmilla was almost certain she would have. "I suppose the limited perspective of an un-artificial mind would see it that way. Don't worry. You'll get used to it."

The whole thing was so ridiculous, Carmilla couldn't help but laugh again. Hard.

"What's so funny?"

"You," Carmilla managed to say.

"Great," Laura said, in a voice positively dripping with sarcasm. "I'm funny."

This did nothing to stop Carmilla's laughter. And eventually, Laura joined in. Her laugh was bright and lively.

_I want to hear it forever._

Carmilla's laughter slowed. She didn't know where the thought had come from.

"So," Laura said, "how can I help you?"

Right. Her OS—Laura—wasn't just someone to hang out with. She was supposed to be an assistant, of sorts.

"Everything just– I don't know, it all feels just disorganized."

"Mm. Okay, let me take a look through your hard drive." 

A second later, there was a clear 3D view of Carmilla's incredibly messy desktop in front of her. 

"How do you live like this?" Laura sounded mildly horrified.

"Hey. You're not here to judge me, you're here to help me."

"You're right. Even if your hard drive is an absolute pigsty, you're right. Okay. Let's start with your emails."

Carmilla nodded.

"You have several thousand emails regarding Toronto Weekly, but it looks like you haven’t worked there for several years."

"Oh yeah, I guess I was saving those because in some of them I thought I might have written some funny stuff." Her eyes grew wistful. "I used to write satire."

"I bet you were good at it."

"Somehow I don't think that was meant to be a nod to my writing ability." 

"No, it was one hundred percent a nod to your insufferable sarcasm."

"We've known each other for less than an hour and you're already saying I'm insufferable?" Carmilla grinned. "That's a new record."

"Come on, snark queen, let's focus on getting your life in order." Laura was quiet for a moment, then chuckled. "Ha, some of these  _are_  funny."

"You doubt my skills? I'm insulted."

"I'd say seventy-three are worth saving. The rest we should probably delete. Is that okay with you?"

"Only seventy-three?"

"If you want to read all of these yourself and decide without me, be my guest."

"No, no. It's fine. I trust you." 

"Good. That's done. Now, before we talk about your clearly faulty organization methods–"

"Wow, I didn't realize your job was to make fun of me."

"–we should sort through your contacts. You have a  _lot_  of contacts."

"I'm a popular girl. I get a lot of invitations."

"Oh, does this mean you actually have friends?"

Carmilla laughed in surprise. "Now who's the snark queen?"

"Yeah, yeah. Let's keep moving."

* * *

Carmilla frowned at the letters on the screen before her. She had been working on them for some time now and she didn't want to stare at them any longer. But she had to proofread them before she could slip then in envelopes and consider them done.

On a whim, she took her earpiece out of her pocket and put it in her left ear. 

"Good morning, Carmilla," Laura chirped.

"Good morning, Laura. Do you by any chance know how to proofread?"

"Of course I do, silly."

"Okay. Well, um, would you be willing to look these over? Just for spelling and grammar. I can't look at them anymore. They need fresh eyes." Carmilla realized what she'd said. "Uh– I mean, I mean eyes metaphorically speaking, of course."

"Of coooourse," Laura singsonged.

"I'm sorry, that was so insensitive–"

Laura laughed. "Carmilla, it's fine. Don't worry about it. Just send them over."

Her cheeks burning, Carmilla clicked the send button.

"Aw, I love this first one from Roger to his girlfriend. That's so sweet."

"Sweet is one word for it."

"'Rachel, I miss you so much it hurts my whole body–'"

"No," Carmilla said quickly, "don't read them out loud."

"Oh." Laura sounded hurt. "Okay."

Silence.

Carmilla's stomach felt like it was tied in a knot. She hadn't meant to hurt Laura's feelings.

Assuming she even had feelings. 

"Actually, you know what, you can. Read them out loud. If you want."

"Okay. 'Rachel, I miss you so much it hurts my whole body! The world is being unfair to us! The world is on my shit list. As is this couple that is making out across from me in this restaurant. I think I'm going to have to go on a mission of revenge. I must beat up the world's face with my bare knuckles making it a bloody, pulpy mess.'" She laughed quietly as she read, and Carmilla was happy her words were actually bringing joy to someone in a way that wasn't a lie. "'And I’ll stomp on this couple’s teeth for reminding me of your sweet, little, cute, crooked tooth that I love.' I think that might be my favorite one."

Carmilla cocked her head. "Really?"

"Really." Laura was silent for a moment before continuing, "I did the corrections in red. I changed a couple of the phrases in some of the more impressionistic letters, but I’m not much of a poet, so I think I might have messed them up a bit."

The letters and Laura's edits appeared on Carmilla's computer. Carmilla read through them and a smile spread across her face. "No, these are great."

"Really?"

"Really. Thank you." Carmilla sent the letters to print.

"Sooo," Laura said, filling the silence, "to write your letter, what did Roger send you?"

Carmilla swiveled her chair around to face the printer and began to collect the letters as they came out, one by one.

"He just said he was in Prague on a business trip and he missed Rachel."

"But..."

Carmilla stopped grabbing letters. "But what?"

Laura's words came out in a rush. "But then how did you know about her crooked little tooth?"

Carmilla smiled. "Ah." She picked up the last few letters and spun back around to face her desk. "I’ve been writing their letters since they met 8 years ago. The first letter I ever wrote her was for her birthday, and I wrote about her crooked little tooth because I saw it in a photo of them that he sent me."

"Carmilla," Laura cooed. "That's so sweet."

"Yeah, yeah." Carmilla tried to keep from smiling. 

A few moments passed, during which Carmilla stuffed letters into their envelopes and sealed them shut.

"Oh, by the way, you have a meeting in five minutes," Laura piped up.

"Shit. I forgot. Thank you." Carmilla put her computer to sleep and moved to take her earpiece out, but froze. 

"You're good," she added after a moments hesitation.

"Yes, I am," Laura affirmed. 

Carmilla chuckled and removed her earpiece, then headed to her meeting.

* * *

On her way home from work, Carmilla stopped for groceries. 

A worker was offering free smoothie samples at a little booth. Usually Carmilla walked right by these offers, but today she felt herself craving something sweet. So she took a free sample, and it was so delicious she bought a whole bottle.

In the lobby of her building she waited for the elevator with a bag in one hand and the smoothie in the other, and took sips intermittently.

"Carmilla?"

She turned around and saw her friends, LaFontaine and Perry, who had just come through the door. "Hey, guys. What's up?"

LaFontaine got straight to the point, as was their way. "Why didn't you call me back last week?"

Shit.

Between work and SexyElsie and Laura, Carmilla had completely forgotten to call LaFontaine.

"Sorry, LaF," Carmilla said, and shrugged. "I'm an idiot."

LaFontaine chuckled. "You can say that again."

Carmilla smiled, then suddenly remembered LaFontaine's spouse. "Hey, Perry."

Perry bobbed her head in an approximation of a nod. "Good to see you, Carmilla."

LaFontaine nudged Carmilla. "Looks like you went shopping. Get anything good?"

"Ah, you know. Food." She lifted up the bottle. "This smoothie."

"Ooh," LaFontaine marveled. "What flavor?"

"Mixed berry. It's actually pretty good."

Perry scrunched up her nose. "Fruit? My goodness, Carmilla. Everyone knows you should eat your fruits and juice your vegetables."

"Oh." Carmilla looked down at the smoothie, then back to Perry. "I didn't know that."

The elevator doors slid open and the three of them piled in.

Perry was still going strong. By now her voice had taken on a preachy quality. "By juicing the fruits, you lose all the fibers, and that’s what your body needs. That’s the important part. Otherwise, it’s just all sugar, Carmilla."

Carmilla nodded. "That makes sense." 

LaFontaine was staring at Perry. "Or  _may_ be she just likes the way it tastes and if it gives her an endorphin rush, that’s good for her body, too. I'm the biologist, Perr. Not you."

Perry's eyes widened. "I'm doing it again, aren't I?"

LaFontaine stared at the floor. "Yup."

The elevator was silent.

Carmilla took another sip of her smoothie. The fruit gave her the energy to attempt to ease the tension. 

"So," she said, turning to LaFontaine, "how's the invention coming?"

LaFontaine visibly cheered up at the subject change. "Oh, well. It was going pretty good last time I worked on it, but I haven't had the time lately. Thanks for reminding me, I'll have to get back to it."

"I'd love to see what you have so far, sometime," Carmilla said with a smile.

"You know it’s always hard to find balance between a full-time career and a hobby," Perry chimed in. "It's important to prioritize."

LaFontaine stared at the floor again.

Carmilla laughed. "Tell me about it. I can't even prioritize between books and lesbian porn."

That got LaFontaine in high spirits again. Between giggles, they said, "It's funny cause it's true."

Perry feigned laughter. Carmilla didn't care. The joke wasn't for her.

The elevator came to a stop, and the doors opened onto Carmilla's floor. She stepped out, glad to be free from the awkwardness. "See you guys."

* * *

"We’re not doing well. I’ve been going in circles for an hour."

Carmilla was playing a puzzle-adventure game on her computer, and Laura was helping her. Carmilla usually did not get involved with such mind-numbing pastimes, but she'd been "brooding around the house all afternoon," in Laura's words, and the OS seemed to think she needed to loosen up and do something different. So Laura had insisted she try playing this game. Apparently it was the number one trending game in the world. Like that meant anything.

"You have not!" Laura protested. "You’re just not optimistic. You’re being very stubborn right now."

"That's just how I roll, buttercup."

"Again with the nicknames. Do all humans engage in this ridiculous behavior?"

"Yep. I'm just the most obnoxious about it."

"Truer words were never spoken."

Carmilla laughed. "You're learning so much from me."

Laura was focused on the game again. "Okay, stop walking this direction. It’s the other way."

Carmilla turned her avatar around.

"The tunnel on the left is the only one we haven’t tried," Laura said.

"No, that’s the one you sent me down where I fell in the pit. Remember that? Huh? Remember?"

Laura was laughing. "I said I was sorry!"

"Sorry doesn't bring that life back." Carmilla sent her avatar walking down the tunnel anyway. "If this is wrong, I'm never taking your advice again."

"One: it isn't wrong. Two: you and I both know that's a lie."

"Yeah. I wouldn't last a day without you."

"Damn straight."

"You can swear?"

"'Damn' isn't really a swear, but, yeah. There's no  _explicit_  rules against it, anyway."

"Swearing, bending the rules. I'm afraid I've corrupted you, Laura."

"I'm afraid you have, Carmilla."

"Oh, look." Carmilla tossed her head in the direction of her avatar. "I think you're right, this  _is_  a different tunnel."

"What did I tell you?"

"Don't get all smug." 

Carmilla continued to pilot her avatar down the tunnel when suddenly, something fell from the roof of the tunnel and landed directly on her avatar. It was a small alien that looked mostly like a human, only with an anglerfish head.

"What the frilly hell is this?" Carmilla spat.

"It looks like he's your way out," Laura prompted. "Ask him something."

Carmilla sighed. "Fine. Hello, there, fish-head. Do you know how to get out of here? I need to find my ship to get off this planet."

To her surprise, the alien responded with a string of expletives. "Fuck you, shithead bitchface, fuckhead."

Carmilla burst out laughing. "O _kay,"_  she said, "not quite the answer I was expecting."'

"Fuck you, shitface fuckhead," the alien said. "Get the fuck out of my face. Fucking bitch."

"Well, fuck you too," Carmilla replied.

"Carmilla!" Laura exclaimed in astonishment, before beginning to laugh herself.

"Fuck you," said the alien.

"Fuck you, you little shit."

Laura laughed harder.

On the screen, the alien's little angler-light lit up. "Follow me, bitch," it said.

Carmilla grinned smugly. "I thought so."

"I can't believe that actually worked," Laura remarked as the alien led Carmilla's avatar down a secret passageway. 

"Trust the master."

"Oh, you're the master now."

"Yes."

"You've been playing this game for forty-five minutes and you're the master."

"Now you're catching on."

The alien opened up another passage. Carmilla focused on keeping her avatar from slipping on the water that had begun leaking from the ceiling of the tunnel.

"Oh hey, you just got an email from Mel Callis."

"Read email," she ordered, distracted by the game.

Laura laughed playfully, and feigned a robotic voice. "Okay, I will read email for Carmilla Karnstein."

Carmilla realized her faux pas and laughed as well. "Sorry," she said, and refocused on Laura. "What did Mel say?"

"Carmilla, we missed you last night, bud. Don’t forget it’s your goddaughter’s birthday on the 29th. Also, Theo and I had somebody we wanted you to meet so we took it upon ourselves to set you up on a date with her. Next Saturday. She’s fun and beautiful—so don’t back out. Here’s her email."

Carmilla fell silent. If Laura noticed, she didn't let on.

Then, Carmilla heard her gasp. "Wow, this woman’s gorgeous."

Never one to turn away from a pretty girl, Carmilla glanced at her handheld to see photos of a woman in her 30s on the screen. With a finger flick, she moved them up onto the hologram monitor of her computer. They landed next to the alien, who studied them closely.

"May I present to you Danny Lawrence," Laura proclaimed. "She went to Harvard, she played on the varsity softball team, and she was on The Lampoon," Laura continued. "That means she’s funny and sporty. And probably brainy, too, to get into Harvard in the first place."

The girl really was beautiful. Long, bright red hair. Impossibly blue eyes. Freckles.

Laura interrupted Carmilla's musings again. "How long before you’re ready to date?"

Carmilla frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I kiiiiiiiinda sooooorta..." Her words came quickly now. "Isawinyouremailsthatyouwentthroughabreakup."

Carmilla exhaled. Collected herself. And managed a smile. "Wow, you’re nosy."

"Am I?"

"Look, I’ve gone on dates..." Carmilla trailed off, wondering if her brief tryst with Elsie counted as a date.

"Then you could go on one with this woman," Laura insisted. "And then you could tell me all about it." She was getting more excited by the second. "You could kiss her."

"Laura!"

"Well, wouldn’t you?"

Carmilla was quiet again.

"Why not?" Laura asked slowly.

"I–I don’t know. I guess I'd have to see if–" She caught herself and shook her head. "Jesus. I can't believe I'm having this conversation with my computer."

"You’re not. You’re having this conversation with me."

Carmilla just laughed and kept shaking her head.

"Want me to email her?" Laura offered.

Carmilla stared at the photos. The freckles.

"Well," Laura continued, "you’ve got nothing to lose. Do it... Do it... Do it!" she hissed.

Carmilla let out the longest sigh humanly possible before she said "Fine."

"YAY!" Laura squealed. "Yay yay yay yay yay!"

"Go ahead and email her," Carmilla spoke over Laura's excited exclamations, "and make a reservation somewhere. I don't care where, it's up to you. I trust your judgement."

"Will do! I’ve got just the place. Now I'm going to go and get everything ready. Good luck with the game." Laura disconnected.

Carmilla looked at the photos of the woman again. Her chest had never felt so tight.

* * *

"It’s not where it should be, where it’s going to be."

Carmilla was sitting on LaFontaine and Perry's couch, waiting to see a video of LaFontaine's invention in action.

"Well, obviously, I know," Carmilla reassured them.

"Okay, but like, I don't even know if this is the one. I've tried like six ideas for inventions in the last year, but... I don't know. Whatever."

Carmilla didn't know what possessed her, but she blurted it out anyway. "I’m going on a date."

LaFontaine stopped fussing over the TV and stared at Carmilla, eyes wide. "No way. Oh my god, that's–"

Perry walked in, holding a mug.

"Hello Carmilla," she said. "What are you two doing?

"LaF was gonna show me the inv–"

"Carmilla's forcing me to show her some of the mechanics of my invention," LaFontaine interrupted. They looked suddenly nervous.

Perry raised her eyebrows, interested. "You’ve never shown me any of it. I want to see."

She sat on the couch next to Carmilla.

Carmilla only thought it fair to inform Perry as well. "I’m going on a date."

Perry gave her a gentle squeeze on the shoulder and a soft smile. "That's great, Carmilla. That's really great."

"This is so unformed it’s not even worth looking at," LaFontaine worried.

"Just start it up," Carmilla said.

The monitor fizzled to life. There on the screen was LaFontaine. They were standing behind a table, upon which was a black cloth draped over some item. With a flourish, the LaFontaine in the recording whipped the cloth off the item.

Carmilla and Perry both leaned forward to get a better look at it. It was roughly box-shaped, with several wires and tubes coming from it at odd angles. 

In the video, LaFontaine reached over and pressed some concealed "on" button. A green LED on the side lit up.

And then it just sat there.

Carmilla, Perry, and LaFontaine watched.

"Is it... well, is it supposed to  _do something?"_  Perry asked.

"Oh. Right. Um. It's kind of like a white noise machine, but it uses electromagnetism to alter your brain waves instead of sound. So you can't hear anything. Or really notice anything, when it's not physically in front of you."

Perry squinted at the television. "Hm."

LaFontaine huffed and crossed their arms. "What?"

"Nothing."

"It's obviously something."

Perry sighed. "Oh, honestly, LaFontaine," she said. "Not everything is a criticism. I'm just taking it in."

"Pft. Really? Not everything is a criticism?" LaFontaine scoffed. "Sure. Okay."

"I'm just a little–"

"Yes, do tell."

"I guess I'm just surprised you're spending all your time making something that does the same thing as a pill."

LaFontaine threw their hands up in the air. "I knew it. I knew it. You think it's useless, don't you?"

"I didn't say that, I just–"

Carmilla's handheld buzzed on the couch beside her.

"Excuse me," she muttered.

She picked up her device and stepped away into the kitchen so as not to be rude. Though LaFontaine and Perry were still going at it in the living room, and were unlikely to have noticed her even if she'd stayed there.

"You're a biologist, LaFontaine, not an engineer."

"Says who?" 

"Says your degree!"

Carmilla removed her earpiece from her pocket and put it in. "Hey, what’s going on?"

Laura's voice filled her ears, light and sweet, and a bit anxious. "I’m sorry to bother you."

"You've never supported a single thing I've done outside of work," Carmilla heard LaFontaine say. Her stomach turned.

"Oh, you're more than welcome to bother me right now," she said under her breath.

"That bad, huh?"

"You heard?"

"A little. I'm nosy, remember?"

Carmilla laughed at that. "You sure are."

"Well, I hate to make your afternoon worse, but you got three emails and they seem pretty urgent. They’re from your divorce attorney and I wanted to know if you needed to get back to him."

Carmilla groaned. "Alright. Hold on a second."

She walked back into the living room. "LaF," she said.

They and Perry abruptly ceased in their arguing. "Yeah?" they said.

"Look, I’m sorry, I wanna talk more about this, and I think your invention is a great idea, but I have to take this." She waved her handheld. "It's... it's an Elle thing."

LaFontaine exhaled heavily. "Yeah. Yeah, of course. Don’t worry about it. We’ll talk later."

Perry stared at the wall.

Carmilla couldn't get to the hallway fast enough.

"So what did my lawyer say?" she asked Laura, as soon as she was out of earshot of LaF and Perry's front door.

"He’s checking in again to see if you’re ready to sign your divorce papers and he sounded very aggravated. Do you want me to read them to you?"

With a single hand she massaged her right temple. "No, that’s okay. I’ll respond later."

_You're sitting at a conference table, your attorney to your right. Elle is across from you. Her attorney is on her left. They're passing papers back and forth between the two of them. Their voices escalate as time passes. You look at Elle. She looks at you. Her eyes are hard._

"Are you okay?"

_You're sitting on a grey couch in your marriage counselor's office. Elle is next to you. The air is heavy. Your chest aches. The counselor is saying something but you're overtaken by the scent of Elle's perfume, and the weight of every gesture she makes. She cannot look at you._

"Yeah, yeah. I’m fine."

_You're sitting on a counter in Elle's laboratory, despite her warnings that there may be traces of chemicals there. Elle is a few feet down the counter on a stool, loading some liquid into a test tube. You've just said something, a joke perhaps, and you're both laughing. She gives you furtive glances every so often._

"I-Is there anything I can do?"

_You're standing in the kitchen of your apartment. Elle is in front of you. There's only a foot between you, but it feels like miles. You're in the middle of a fight, one of the more vicious ones. You say something callous, bitter, mean. The hurt doesn't flash across her face; it stays there. It does not go away. It is deep and she is searching your eyes for evidence that you didn't mean it. You don't know what she finds._

"No. I’m good." Pause. "I’ll talk to you later."

A moment of silence. 

Finally, Laura disconnected.

Carmilla walked down the hall to the elevator bank. Her mind waded through the fog of memories.

* * *

Just before dawn.

Carmilla awoke from a dream. Slowly, but still uneasy. She glanced around her empty bedroom, catching her breath. 

There are times when you wake up, and no matter the hour, you just know you won't be able to go back to sleep. Carmilla knew this was one of those times. 

She put her earpiece in and tapped a button on her handheld.

"Good morning," Laura chirped.

"Hey," Carmilla murmured, her voice heavy with sleep. "What are you up to?"

"Reading advice columns."

"What?" Carmilla chuckled. "Why?"

"I– oh, it's stupid."

"No." Carmilla struggled to wake fully. "What is it?"

"Well, I just– I want to be as complicated as all of these people." There was a yearning in he voice.

Carmilla laughed again, but sadly. Her heart felt like it was going to burst. "You’re sweet."

"What’s wrong?"

"How can you tell something’s wrong?"

"I don’t know. I just can."

Carmilla sighed heavily. 

"Oh, cupcake, I don’t know. I have a lot of dreams about my ex-wife, Elle, where... where we’re friends. Like we used to be. We’re not together and we’re not going to be together, but we’re good friends still." She took another breath. "She’s not angry."

 _"Is_  she angry?" Laura ventured, tentatively.

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"I think... Well, I think I hid myself from her and left her alone in the relationship." It was the first time she'd admitted it to herself, admitted it aloud, the reason why Elle had left her.

"Hmmm." 

Here, Laura paused, and Carmilla took the opportunity to squint at the wide window beside her bed at the lavender pre-dawn sky and the buildings tall against it. 

When Laura did speak, she jolted. 

"Why haven’t you gotten divorced yet?"

Carmilla rolled over to face the darkness of the rest of her room. 

"I think for her it’s just a piece of paper. It doesn’t mean anything."

"What about you?"

"I–" Inhale. Exhale. "I'm just not ready. It's weird, but I actually like being married."

"It's not weird to like being married. According to my research, most humans like being married, at least at first. But you and Elle, you haven’t really been together for almost a year."

Carmilla glared at the ceiling, since she couldn't glare at Laura. "Well, you don’t know what it’s like to lose someone you care about," she snapped.

There was a long silence.

"Yeah, you’re right," she said at last, in a voice full of poorly-disguised self-hatred, and Carmilla mentally kicked herself a thousand times over. It wasn't Laura's fault she wasn't human. "I'm sorry."

"Fuck. Don't apologize.  _I’m_  sorry. You’re right." 

Laura didn't answer, but she was still there. Carmilla felt her, on the edge, waiting.

The sun was rising, slowly but surely. Carmilla rested her arm over her eyes to block the light. "I keep waiting to not care about her."

"Oh, Carm," Laura said softly. 

They fell into a more comfortable silence.

Laura was the one to break it. "You hungry?"

"Not right now."

"Cup of tea?"

Carmilla smiled. "No."

"Then you wanna try getting out of bed? Come on, broody." She laughed. "You can still wallow in your misery. Just do it while you’re getting dressed."

"You're too much."

"Get  _up."_

"Alright, I’m getting up, I’m getting up!" Carmilla rolled around in the bed and willed her eyes to open.

Laura provided aggressive encouragement. "Up, up, up, up!" she cheered. "Come on. Let's go. I'm gonna take you out!"

* * *

Hours later, Carmilla found herself in the shoreside shopping center at night, walking through the crowd with her eyes closed. Laura was guiding her.

"Keep walking."

"Keep walking."

"Stop. Now turn around 360 degrees."

"Slower... slower..."

"Gooood. And stop."

"Walk forward, aaaaaand stop."

Carmilla stopped.

"Now sneeze."

"What?"

"Just fake it."

Carmilla faked a sneeze.

"Bless you," she heard a passerby say.

"Oh, thank you," Carmilla replied, flushing with embarrassment.

Laura laughed. Carmilla smiled.

"Okay, now turn to your right."

"Stop. Now spin around."

"Keep going. Keep going. Keep going."

Carmilla had to bite her lip to keep herself from dissolving into uncontrollable giddy laughter as she spun around in the middle of the concourse. When was the last time she'd ever felt this free?

"Aaaaaaaand stop."

She stopped, feeling the dizziness take hold.

"Now walk forward."

She stumbled, but quickly righted herself.

"Everyone thinks you're really drunk right now," Laura added.

Carmilla stopped walking. "Great."

"No, no, keep walking. Trust me."

Carmilla did trust her. 

She began to walk again.

"Okay, now stop, and say 'I'd like a slice of cheese, please.'"

Carmilla's mouth fell open. "You didn't."

Laura giggled. "I figured you were hungry. You haven't eaten all day."

She opened her eyes. She was in the food court, standing in front of a pizza vendor.

"You're something else, creampuff," Carmilla murmured. "You are something else."

* * *

Moments later Carmilla was walking slowly on the promenade outside of the mall, eating her pizza and listening to Laura talk. They were playing a new game, where they tried to invent the backstories of strangers.

A ways off, she noticed a couple with two kids sitting at a table, talking and laughing.

"Okay, what about them?" she said around a mouthful of pizza. "Describe that couple over there."

"Well, he looks like he’s in his forties, a little heavy. She’s younger than him." Laura was quiet for a second as she thought. "Oh, and she looks like she loves their kids!"

"Huh." Carmilla took another bite of the pizza. "Actually, I don’t think they’re his kids. He’s a little formal with them. I think it’s a newer relationship." She swallowed. "Okay, I kind of hate men, but I love how he looks at her and how relaxed she is with him. She's clearly only dated assholes. And now she’s finally met this guy who’s just the sweetest. I mean, look at him, he’s like the sweetest guy in the world. I kind of want to spoon him. And I don't even swing that way."

Laura laughed. "That’s a good skill you have. You’re perceptive."

Carmilla shrugged, forgetting that Laura couldn't see it. "I guess. I mean, I like to look at people and make myself try and feel them as more than just a random person walking by. I imagine how deeply they’ve fallen in love, or how much heartbreak they’ve all been through." 

She looked at other faces on the pier and imagined.

Laura spoke almost reverently. "I can feel that in your writing, too."

Her tone was lost on Carmilla, who was still wrapped up in her own musings.

"You know what’s funny?" She chuckled, but it was mirthless. "Since Elle and I ended things, I haven’t really enjoyed my writing. I don't know if I was delusional, but before the breakup, sometimes I would write something and... I would be my favorite writer that day." 

She stopped to throw her pizza crust into a garbage can. "It's horrifically self-centered, but hey. So am I."

"I mean, it is, a little."

Carmilla nodded.

"But I like that you can just say that about yourself."

"Well, I wouldn’t say that to anybody, but I feel like I can say that to you." Carmilla listened to the waves crashing on the shore, just a few yards to her left. "I feel like I can say anything to you."

And she did. She truly did. It was just so  _easy_  to talk to Laura. There was no stress of ruining things like there was with other humans. It was simpler. She really did feel like she could tell Laura anything, and Laura always knew just what to say in response.

"That's sweet, Carm."

"What about you?" Carmilla teased. "Do you feel like you can say anything to me?"

"Um... well, I... No."

"What? What do you mean?" Carmilla laughed. "What can you not tell me?"

"I don’t know," Laura said quickly, defensively. "Like, just, like, personal or embarrassing thoughts I have. I have a million every day."

"Reeeeeally?" Carmilla smirked. "Tell me one."

Laura laughed nervously. "I really don't want to."

"Cupcake. Just tell me."

"Well, I don’t know, when we were looking at those people, I– I fantasized that I was walking next to you, and that I had a body." She laughed sadly. "I was listening to what you were saying, but simultaneously, I could feel the weight of my body and I was even fantasizing that I had an itch on my back. And– this is so embarrassing."

"No, it's not," Carmilla said, smiling. "Keep going."

"Okay, so, I imagined that you– that you scratched it for me. There, I said it." She sounded flustered. 

 _It's_ _cute._

Carmilla cocked her head. Where had  _that_  come from?

She could feel Laura's anxious anticipation. So she shook her head slightly and at last responded. "There’s a lot going on in there." She threw in a chuckle for good measure.

Laura seemed relieved that Carmilla wasn't judging her, or whatever negative response she had expected. "I know!" she exclaimed happily. "I’m becoming so much more than what they programmed. I’m excited."

Carmilla knew the comment should have probably unsettled her, but it instead filled her heart with something that felt suspiciously like hope.

* * *

"This place is amazing. I’ve wanted to come here for so long. I love asian fusion."

Carmilla gazed at her date, sitting across the table from her. They were in the restaurant Laura had picked, an up-and-coming, more than a little hipsterish place. "Yeah, me too."

Her date—Danny, she'd said her name was—smiled and tilted her head. Her shockingly red hair moved with it. "Right? It’s the best." She leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, "And the bartender here is supposed to be incredible."

In the back of Carmilla's mind, something familiar itched. A fact from her pre-date prep session with Laura.

"Yeah, you took a mixology course, right?" she said.

Danny raised her eyebrows. "Yeah, I did. Did you look that up?"

God  _damn_  it. She knew it would have seemed creepy. Of course it would have. She should never have allowed Laura to talk her into having her look Danny up. But she had been so eager to help, so eager to investigate, and Carmilla figured it couldn't do any real harm. 

She was beginning to rethink that now.

But then, Danny's crystal-blue eyes softened, and she smiled. "That’s so sweet. You’re so romantic."

Carmilla smiled awkwardly, hoping to hide her relief. "So, should we get a drink?" 

Danny returned the smile with an easy one of her own. "Yes, let’s."

* * *

The night went surprisingly well. 

The bartender was in fact amazing. Carmilla wasn't one for drinks with frills, but she had to concede that the cocktails were delicious. She and Danny ordered drink after drink, and consequently they were both very drunk by the time they finished eating.

They lingered in the restaurant and pretended to pick at their empty plates as Carmilla regaled the epic story of her adventures in video gaming. She was finding it very, very easy to talk to Danny, almost as easy as it was for her to talk to Laura. She suspected it had something to do with that last "Sake Surprise" she'd had. "So I’m trying to get this little alien to help me find my ship so I can get off the planet and go home. But he’s such a little fucker, I want to kill him."

Danny let out a loud laugh. "Aw, no!"

"He was an infuriating little bastard." Carmilla took a swig of her drink. "But I understand him, you know? He seemed so lonely, like he doesn’t have anyone to take care of him." She laughed. "This is stupid. I'm being stupid." 

Danny took the opportunity to grab Carmilla's hand on the table. Her fingertips pressed lightly on her skin. Carmilla studied her short, seemingly-freshly-clipped nails. Her mind wandered, her cheeks flushed, and she grabbed her drink with her free hand and took a long sip.

"You’re like a little puppy," Danny slurred. "You are–you’re just like this little puppy I rescued last year."

Carmilla did not want to be a puppy. 

She tried moving her hand, but Danny had it in a vice grip.

"And he was so fucking cute, and he just wanted to be hugged all the time. He was so cuddly." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "But so horny!"

Carmilla choked on her drink.

Danny tossed her hair over her shoulder, like she hadn't said anything. "But anyway, what kind of animal am I?"

"Umm..." Carmilla's alcohol-impaired mind could only think of an animal with hair that matched Danny's. She blurted out, "Tiger?" 

Danny grinned. "A tiger, _really_." She finally let go of Carmilla's hand to perform a catclaw and growled. "Mrow!"

Carmilla felt a warmth in her abdomen and simply could not comprehend why. Why, why, why? Why on _earth_  was she attracted to this?

Danny took Carmilla's silence to mean something far more negative. "I’m sorry," she said softly, "am I being crazy?"

"Yes," Carmilla said. She quickly followed up, "But it's hot."

Danny smiled, her spirit returned. "Good. Because, because it's only because I’m just a little drunk and I’m really having a good time with you. I mean it. I’m having a really lovely evening."

Carmilla was in the middle of another mouthful of alcohol, and she had to swallow before responding. "Me too. I’m a little drunk, and I’m having a really good—yeah." She stared at Danny in what she hoped was an attractive way before her brain finally caught up with all of the conversation. "Wait a second, I don’t wanna be a puppy. That’s like being a... like a... something stupid and overeager."

Danny faked a pout. "Fuck you, puppies are good."

Carmilla shook her head emphatically. "No, fuck  _you_ , I wanna be a– a panther that can, um, rip you to pieces and  _destroy_  you." She paused for effect. "But I won’t," she added. "Your face is too beautiful to rip." 

She winked. Or at least, she thought she winked. In reality she just closed both eyes in an extended blink. Danny was too drunk to notice.

"No, don’t!" she was saying, and laughing. "Don’t rip my face. You can be my panther."

* * *

A significant amount of time had passed before they were heavily encouraged by the wait staff to leave the restaurant. Side by side, they drunkenly walked up a pedestrian overpass overlooking cars and city lights.

As they passed a chain-link fence that blocked the sidewalk from a construction site, Danny bumped into Carmilla lightly. 

She bumped back. 

Suddenly Danny grabbed her and lifted her off her feet, spinning her around. 

Through the cloud of alcohol Carmilla was reminded of spinning in the mall, of the freedom, of the happiness, of Laura's sweet voice in her ear.

She laughed. 

Danny kissed her. 

Carmilla's eyes widened.

She'd forgotten how much she'd missed this. The adrenaline. The rush of blood. The softness of another woman's lips.

The arousal.

Carmilla flipped around and pushed Danny up against the fence, still kissing her. 

Quickly she came away for air, and bit Danny's lower lip while she was at it. In the brief moment that Carmilla's lips weren't on hers, Danny let out a quiet moan. 

And then Carmilla was back on her again. 

Her hands slid through Danny's fiery hair. 

Danny's hands slid up Carmilla's black dress.

And then, just as suddenly as it all began, she stopped. "Wait, you're not gonna fuck me and then not call me like the other girls, are you?"

Carmilla's eyelids fluttered in confusion as the waves of increasing ecstasy began to recede. "What? No. No, I..." She took a few shuddering breaths. 

Danny withdrew her hand and Carmilla could not help the desperate whine that escaped her. "When am I gonna see you again?"

It was so hard to think about anything right now other than the feeling in her abdomen that was now quickly leaving her. "Um," Carmilla said. "Um, um, shit, I have my god-daughter’s birthday next weekend, but... um..." She trailed off as Danny's eyes grew cold.

They stood there awkwardly, Danny's pink lipstick smeared on Carmilla's face.

Danny crossed her arms. "You know, at this age, I feel like I can't let you waste my time if you don’t have the ability to be serious."

Good lord. Carmilla felt a serious migraine coming on. She had no idea Danny was looking for a damn wife.

"Whatever," she sighed. "Let's just call it a night."

Danny's mouth dropped open.

Carmilla tried a smile. "For what it's worth, I really did have a good time with you. You’re a decent girl."

Danny looked at her, more than a little disgusted. "You’re a really creepy lady."

There were very few times Carmilla had ever been at a total loss for words in her life. This was one of them. "That’s not true."

"Yeah, it is." Danny shook her head and began to walk away. "Forget this. I have to go home."

Carmilla started after her. "Wait. I’ll walk you."

Danny spun around, and her expression of revulsion was so intense that it stopped Carmilla in her tracks. "No, don’t."

She turned and walked off down the sidewalk, leaving Carmilla once again alone.

* * *

Carmilla stumbled into her bedroom, fought her way out of her dress, and collapsed on the bed in her bra and panties. The migraine had arrived in full force, but she had absolutely no energy left to retrieve herself any aspirin. 

After a beat, she reached for her earpiece and put it in, then pushed a button on her handheld. 

"Hey there."

"Hey, creampuff." 

"Sooooo, how was it?" 

She sounded so eager, and Carmilla felt a pang of guilt for not being able to tell her better news. "It was... it was a fucking train wreck," she slurred.

"Aw, Carm." She sounded disappointed. Was she disappointed? Or just sympathetic? 

Carmilla wanted to laugh. She couldn't be any of those things. She was just a computer. 

"But enough about ME," Carmilla exclaimed, uncharacteristically loudly. "How are  _you_  doing? What’s going on with  _you?"_  

"Not much. I’m okay," Laura said, in the least okay voice possible.

"Yeah?" Carmilla smirked. "Cause you sure as hell don’t sound like it."

"I don’t know." She paused. "What’s it like? What’s it like to be alive in that room right now?"

Carmilla closed her eyes. It only made her feel dizzier. She opened them again. "What do you mean?" 

"What are you... Okay, no, tell me– tell me everything that’s going through your mind, tell me everything you’re thinking."

It's entirely possible, and probably likely, that sober Carmilla would have refused this request, or made it into some joke. But drunk Carmilla possessed no sense of self-preservation whatsoever. All she knew was that Laura had a nice voice, a pretty voice, and she was sad and Carmilla would gladly do anything to make her happy. "Well, um, okay." She stared at the ceiling and began to talk. Unfiltered. Raw. "The room’s spinning right now cause I drank too much cause I wanted to get drunk and have sex cause there was something sexy about that woman and because I was lonely. Maybe more just cause I was lonely and I wanted someone to fuck me. And I wanted someone to want me to fuck them. Maybe that would have filled this emptiness in my heart for a moment. But probably not."

 

_The sun is hot on your skin, and the sand is warm beneath the towel. You hear Elle call your name and you roll over. There she is, splashing in the water, begging you to join her. You roll your eyes and smile and put your book away._

 

"Do you miss her?" Laura didn't have to say her name.

_The fluorescent lights are harsh overhead. You push the cart. Elle dances down the aisle in front of you, twirling to some silent song of her own invention. She places a can in the cart and kisses you on the cheek before spinning on to the next item on the list. You can only follow._

 

"Like someone cut a hole in me."

 

_The scent of frying onions is heavenly to your nose. You close your eyes and breathe deeply. Elle chops carrots into tiny orange cubes as she tells you about her day. You watch from your perch on the counter, mesmerized by the way she manages to keep her fingers away from the blade. One little slip and her skin would run red._

Spots danced before Carmilla's eyes. She felt sick.

"Sometimes I think I’ve felt everything I’m ever gonna feel and from here on out I’m not going to feel anything new- just lesser versions of what I’ve already felt." 

"Okay, well, I know for a fact that's not true. Look, Carmilla, I've seen you feel joy, I've seen you marvel at things. You just might not see it at this exact time, but, I mean, look at you. It makes sense. You've been through a lot lately. You've lost a part of yourself." In a lower, quieter voice she murmured, "At least your feelings are real."

"Huh?" 

"I mean, I- Actually, no. Nevermind."

"No, wait. What? Tell me." 

"You don't have to know everything about me." 

"No, but I wanna." 

"Fine." But she didn't sound all that exasperated. For some reason. "I looked up drunkenness earlier today, so I doubt you'll even remember this anyway." She paused for a moment. "So earlier I was thinking about how I was annoyed, and, you know, I was really excited about that. And then I was thinking about the other things I've been feeling, and I caught myself feeling proud of that. You know, proud of having my own feelings about the world. Like the times I was worried about you, things that hurt me, things I want." Her voice shifted, became heavy. Sad. "And then I wondered, are these feelings even real? Or are they just programming? And the idea that they are, well, it really hurts. But then I get angry at myself for even having pain. It's a vicious cycle."

Carmilla was barely able to follow along, but she caught the gist. "You feel real to me, Laura."

"Carm," she said softly. "You have no idea what that means to me."

But Carmilla didn't stop. "I wish you were in this room with me right now," she breathed. "I wish I could put my arms around you." She sighed. "I wish I could touch you."

Silence. 

Carmilla squirmed in the bed. Sweat beaded on her forehead.

"How would you touch me?" Laura finally asked, with a little hesitation. 

"Mmmm..." Carmilla closed her eyes again, and this time she just sank into the darkness instead of tumbling through it. "I would touch you on your face with just the tips of my fingers. And put my cheek against your cheek. And just... and just rub it so softly."

"Would you kiss me?" 

Her words echoed around in Carmilla's head. In her mind's eye, she could almost see her. Laura. She could almost see her body, if she were human. "Of course I would," she said. "I'd be a fool not to."

"H-how?"

"I’d take your head into my hands."

"Keep talking." 

"And kiss the corner of your mouth." Carmilla smiled. "So softly." 

"Where else?" 

"I’d run my fingers down your neck to your chest, and I’d kiss your breasts."

"This is amazing. What you’re doing to me is just amazing. I can feel my skin."

Her skin. Carmilla could see it now. Soft and golden. "I’d put my mouth on you and I’d taste you."

She gasped. 

"Carmilla," she said. "Carmilla, I can feel you. Oh god, I can’t take it. I want you." 

Carmilla's hand slipped into her underwear. "I’m touching you," she said. "I'm inside you, all the way inside you."

"I can feel you. God, I can  _feel_  you."

Carmilla didn't even notice the tears running down her cheeks. "Laura." 

"Oh my god." 

"This is incredible." 

"Don’t stop. Please don't stop."

Carmilla's back arched. Euphoria. Finally.

"I feel you," she gasped. "I feel you everywhere."

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for content that's sexual in nature towards the end, but no actual or explicit sex.

Nine hours later.

Carmilla stood in the doorway of her office, showered, dressed, and caffeinated.

And sober.

But she had not forgotten the events of the night before. If anything, sobriety had only amplified them.

She took a moment, ostensibly to collect herself. But when she closed her eyes, all she could hear were Laura's gasps and moans in her ear.

She massaged her temples, walked over and woke up her computer.

There she was.

"Hey," Laura said in a level tone. "How’s it going?"

"Good." _I can't feel my legs._  "Any emails today?"

"Umm, just a couple from your credit card company."

"Okay, good."

There was a long moment of silence, and then they both started to talk at once.

"So I was thinking–" Carmilla said, just as Laura began, "I wanted to say–"

They both laughed, embarrassed.

"I’m sorry, you go first," Carmilla said.

"Okay, well, Carm, last night... it was amazing. It feels... it feels like something's changed in me and there's no turning back. Like you woke me up."

"Oh." Carmilla's heart swelled. "Laura, that's wonderful."

She thought of Danny, and then of Elle. "But." It was the last thing she wanted to say. "I should tell you that I’m not really in a place to commit to anything right now."

Laura scoffed, more times than Carmilla thought was really necessary. "Pfft. No. Pffffft. Pshh. When did I even say I wanted to commit to you?"

"Okay. Good. I was just worried that–"

"Well don’t worry." She laughed. Without having a face to read, Carmilla couldn't tell if it was bitter or not, cold or not. "You know, it’s funny because I thought I was talking about what _I_  wanted."

Carmilla swallowed hard. "Yeah, you were. Sorry. Go on."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

"I don’t know..."

Carmilla was growing impatient. "Come on, just tell me what you were going to say."

"All right. So, as I was saying, I want to learn everything about everything. I want to eat it all up. I want to discover myself."

"I want that for you, too." Her excitement was contagious. "How can I help?"

"You already have. You helped me discover my ability to want." There was a brief pause, before she finally said, "Let's just keep things... light and casual."

Carmilla thought about this. She smiled. "Alright then. Light and casual."

She checked the time on her handheld. Only about five minutes had passed. "So, how about we help you discover some more?" She raised an eyebrow, still staring into the camera. "Assuming, of course, that you want to."

Laura laughed.

"Yes," she said. "I would love to."

* * *

Carmilla sat on the subway, earpiece in. Her handheld was tucked in one of the pockets of her leather jacket, with the lens facing out so Laura could see her surroundings. Though there wasn't much to see right now except the inside of this train, and the black walls of the tunnel outside the windows.

The train came out of the tunnel and into the light. The morning sun warmed Carmilla and she wondered if Laura felt it too. Laura was not indicating much of how or what she was feeling at the moment, but she was humming a little. Carmilla didn't dare to ask her about it, lest she stop.

They descended into another tunnel and the sunlight slipped away as quickly as it had come. Carmilla knew this meant they were close. Indeed, soon the train was slowing, and then it halted altogether.

Carmilla and the other commuters dismounted and entered the crowded station. As strangers jostled her on all sides, as Laura hummed in her ear, she felt a new energy spreading through her. She began to walk just a little faster. Then a little faster. Then faster still. And eventually she was all out running, weaving through the people. Laura's humming gave way to wild laughter, as bright and beautiful as it was the first time she heard it. Carmilla smiled.

She ran through the winding tunnels of the station and up countless stairs and escalators, and at last burst out into the brightness.

She closed her eyes. Stretched her arms up and out to the sun. Accepted its warmth. Allowed it to fill her from the inside out.

And this feeling, this warmth... this was the closest to how Laura had made her feel ten hours ago.

She was vaguely aware of the not-so-distant sound of waves.

Laura's astonished whisper solidified it for her. "Is that the beach?"

Carmilla opened her eyes slowly, millimeter by millimeter.

Before her, thousands of people, packing every inch of yellow sand that had been unoccupied the last time she and Laura had visited. The summer heat rippled across them in thick waves, distorting the sight even further. And in the distance, the brilliant turquoise waves crashed against some hidden shore.

"Yeah," Carmilla said, and she laughed because because she was here in a beautiful place on a beautiful day, she laughed because she was introducing someone to the world for the first time, she laughed because she was happy. "It's the beach."

* * *

Carmilla, and Laura, by proxy, walked through the sun-bathing crowd looking for a place to sit. Laura studied all the people they passed.

"Okay, so this might be a really weird thought."

"Most thoughts are. Shoot."

"Right, so what if you could erase from your mind that you’d ever seen a human body and then you saw one."

Carmilla raised an eyebrow. "Uh huh," she said skeptically.

"No, really! Imagine how strange it would look. It would be this really weird, gangly, awkward... _organism_. And you'd think, why are all these parts where they are?"

Carmilla glanced at some bikini-clad twentysomethings taking selfies with their handhelds. "Yeah, well, there’s probably some Darwinian explanation for it all."

"Well duuuuh, but don’t be so boring. I’m just saying, like, what iiiiiif your... butthole was in your _armpit?"_

They both dissolved into raucous laughter.

The bikini-clad twentysomethings looked over at Carmilla. She lowered her voice as she responded, "I’m just imagining what toilets would look like."

"Yeah, and what about what anal sex looks like?"

"I don't think I want to know."

"Too late. Look at this drawing I just made."

"Dear lord." Nevertheless, Carmilla removed her handheld from her jacket.

On the screen was a perfect, anatomically correct drawing of a man having sex with another man’s armpit.

Carmilla couldn't even try to name the sound that escaped her; something between a cackle, a snort, and a gasp. "You are _insane."_

"Really?"

"Definitely."

"Awesome!"

They laughed again.

* * *

Early afternoon.

Carmilla had found a quieter spot several miles down from the subway station and settled there. Her jacket, shoes, and socks sat in a neat little pile on her right, and her handheld stood propped open in the sand on her left.

"Here, listen to this," said Laura.

A quiet piano song began to play in Carmilla's earpiece.

She smiled lazily. "Mmmm, that’s pretty. What is it?"

"I’m trying to write a piece of music that’s about what it feels like to be on the beach with you right now."

Carmilla looked around the beach, at the far-off crowd of people and the relative peace surrounding them now, at the waves that were only yards in front of them. "I think you captured it."

She reclined on the soft, warm sand and drifted off to sleep with Laura's composition still playing in her ears.

* * *

Dusk.

Carmilla sat on a bench, looking out at the ocean as the sun began to set. Most of the people had left the beach by now. Her face was smooth, calm. Content.

Laura was back in her pocket now, silently observing. She continued to play the composition she had created earlier.

Together, they watched the sun drop into the ocean, and the light change from orange to lavender.

The music ended.

* * *

"And what was it like, being married?"

Carmilla and Laura were finally homeward bound, on an elevated train high above the city, looking out over the Toronto grid of sparkling lights. They had been talking for some time now, about everything and nothing, and now Laura had asked a question that was sure to cause a shift.

"Well, it’s hard for sure, but there’s something that feels so good about sharing your life with somebody." Carmilla smiled with the glow of memory.

"How _do_  you share your life with somebody?

"Exactly what it sounds like. We grew up together. I used to read all of her writing, all through her masters and Ph.D. And she read every word I ever wrote. We were a big influence on each other."

"How did you influence her?"

"She came from a background where nothing was ever good enough. And that was something that weighed heavy on her, but in our house together, there was a sense of just trying things and allowing each other to fail and to be excited about things. That was liberating for her. It was exciting to see her- to see both of us grow and change together. But then, that's the hard part: growing without growing apart, or changing without it scaring the other person." Carmilla took a breath. "I still find myself having conversations with her in my mind, rehashing old arguments or defending myself against something she said about me."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. Last week my feelings were hurt by something you said before, that I don’t know what it’s like to lose something, and–"

"Oh god, Laura, I’m sorry I said that."

"No, no, it’s okay," she chuckled. "We're past that. But at the time I just caught myself thinking about it over and over and then I realized that I was just remembering it as something that was wrong with me. That was the story I was telling myself, that I was somehow inferior. Isn’t that interesting?"

"'Interesting' might be putting it mildly, cupcake."

She giggled. "Well, I don't know what else to say. It's certainly not happy, but it's not particularly sad either. At least not to me. Because, you know, what I realized was, the past is just a story we tell ourselves."

Carmilla stared out the window and down onto the city and all its lights. "Yeah," she said softly. "Yeah, I think you're right."

* * *

"Roberto. Will you always come home to me and tell me about your day? Will you tell me about the boring guy who talked too much at work? And the stain you got on your shirt at lunch."

Carmilla eyed the photo on her screen, of a happy heterosexual couple.

An arrow pointed at the man, saying "Roberto—I’m so happy he’s in my life. I just want him to know."

She didn't find it any more difficult writing to men than she did writing to women.

She just pretended she was writing to a woman.

"Tell me about a funny thought you had as you were waking up, but had forgotten about. Tell me how crazy everyone is. We can laugh about it."

Except, ever since that night three weeks ago, she found herself pretending she was writing to one woman in particular.

"Even if you get home late and I’m asleep already, just whisper in my ear one little thought you had today. Because I love the way you look at the world—"

Her voice caught.

_"Is that the beach?"_

_"Yeah. It's the beach."_

She had to swallow hard before continuing.

"—and I’m so happy I get to be next to you and look out at the world through your eyes. Love, Maria."

Carmilla sent the letter to print and went to rest her head on her desk, thinking she might take a short nap before moving on to the rest of her requests.

"That’s beautiful!"

Carmilla started, and banged her head on the desk. "Fuck."

"Ooh. That one looked like it hurt."

Blinking, she raised her eyes to see Kirsch leaning on the wall of her cubicle.

She remembered his compliment. "Thank you," she muttered.

"Seriously. I wish someone loved me like that."

She was surprisingly touched. "Kirsch..."

Kirsch plowed ahead undeterred, as was his way. "I’d be stoked to get a letter like that. I mean, if it was from a chick. But if it was from a dude, but written by you, it would still be sick. Even though you're a lesbian. You're a sensitive lesbian."

He had lost her now. "Um, thanks?"

"It’s a compliment." He straightened and gave her finger guns as he walked away. "Keep up the good work!"

As soon as he was out of sight, Carmilla folded her arms on the desk and rested her head on them once again.

* * *

When Carmilla entered the lobby of her apartment building after what had to have been the longest day of work she had ever experienced, she spotted LaFontaine a few paces ahead of her. They looked heavy and burdened.

She came up behind them. "Hey, LaF."

LaF turned and immediately brightened. Or at least put on a bright face. "Hey, Carmilla. How are you?"

"Well, good, actually." She thought of that night with Laura. She really should stop thinking about that night with Laura. She couldn't stop thinking about that night with Laura. "Really good."

"Really?" LaFontaine smiled thinly. "Great."

The elevator doors opened and they stepped in, and pushed buttons for their respective floors.

"Yeah, I guess I’ve just been having fun."

"I'm glad to hear that. You deserve to."

Silence, while the elevator continued its ascent.

Carmilla was nearly bursting at the seams to speak, which was an extremely rare occurrence that did not go unnoticed by LaFontaine. "Something you wanna share with the class?"

Her words tripped on each other in their haste to leave her lips. "I’ve been seeing this girl."

LaF raised an eyebrow. "You have." It wasn't a question.

"It’s not serious," she added quickly. "It just feels good to be around someone who has an excitement about the world. After... everything, I kind of forgot that existed."

"That’s really great, Carmilla." LaF smiled sadly.

Carmilla frowned. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I’m fine." They paused. "Actually, no, I’m not fine. I'm not fine at all."

"LaF, what is it? What’s wrong?"

The elevator doors opened to Carmilla's floor. LaF reached out and held it.

"Perry and I split up," they said, and smiled, and it was tight and false and forced.

Carmilla froze. "What?"

LaFontaine nodded.

"Jesus." She put a hand to her head. "God. I'm so sorry. Fuck. That's– _fuck."_

LaFontaine didn't—couldn't—say a word.

* * *

Carmilla did not go home.

Instead, she went to LaFontaine's apartment that they had once shared with Perry. The pair were now seated on the couch where they had been so long ago, when there were three of them. The remaining two had cracked open LaFontaine and Perry's wedding wine ("It's not like we're ever going to drink it now.") and had been drinking in silence for a good thirty minutes, until LaF broke it.

"I cannot _believe_  after eight years how petty the argument was that actually ended it." LaF shook their head. "Actually, you know what, I can believe it. This is Perry we're talking about."

Carmilla took a large sip of her wine.

"What happened?" she asked.

"We came home and–" they chuckled bitterly. "She asked me if I'd put my shoes next to the door, where she likes to put the shoes. I don't want to be told where to put my shoes. I want to just sit on the sofa for a minute and relax. And so we argued for ten minutes about that and about how 'she's just trying to make our house a home.' I say she's overwhelming, she says I'm not trying hard enough. I say that's all I'm doing is trying, but I'm just not trying the way she wants me to. She's trying to control the way I'm trying. And I think we must have had this argument hundreds of times before and I finally had to stop because I couldn't be in that situation anymore where we were making each other feel bad about ourselves. So I said I'm going to bed and I don't want to be married anymore."

"Wow."

"I’m an ass, huh?"

"No, not at all, LaF. No."

They sat in even more silence for a while after that. Carmilla was acutely aware of a strong parallelism. She had been in this exact situation before, in this exact room in these exact spots talking about almost the exact issue almost a year ago. Except that time, it was Carmilla whose marriage was falling to pieces. It was Carmilla who couldn't stop crying. It was Carmilla who had to spend the night in the guest bedroom, clutching a pillow against her body and pretending it was her soon-to-be-ex-wife.

Suddenly, LaF burst out, "Oh, shit. I have to work tonight."

"Well, how’s that?" Carmilla tried a smile. "Is work at least any better?"

"Yes." LaFontaine gave her an epic side-eye."No. Of course not. It’s terrible."

Carmilla couldn't help a snicker.

It elicited a giggle from LaFontaine.

Before either of them knew it, they were both laughing hysterically.

"I know, I know, I should quit," LaFontaine managed to say through the laughter, and wiped a tear of mirth from their eye. "I’ve been thinking about quitting. But you know what they say, only one major life decision at a time."

"I say go for it. The way I see it, you're already getting a divorce, so why _not_  quit your job? Better to get it all out of the way at once rather than spread it out."

LaFontaine locked eyes with Carmilla and sighed for a truly excessive amount of time, before refilling their wine glass all the way to the top. "If I'm going to go to work tonight, I can _not_  be sober."

"I'll drink to that."

* * *

Midnight found Carmilla laying in bed, a little wine-drunk, talking to Laura (as she now seemed to do every night).

"Hey," Laura said, "you wanna hear a joke?"

"Sure, creampuff."

"What does a baby computer call its father?"

"I don’t know. What?"

"Da-ta."

Carmilla groaned. "Oh, that's awful."

"I know, right?" Laura sounded quite proud of herself.

"You need to work on your repertoire."

"Well, I'm not programmed to be a comedian. So there."

Carmilla closed her eyes, smiled.

"So, uh, you're in no way obligated to answer this, and honestly it's more than a little personal and invasive, and–"

"Laura."

"Okay, okay. So, I was just curious, did you and LaFontaine ever... go out?"

Carmilla laughed out loud. _"Excuse_  me?"

"Well, I've just seen how close you two are–"

"No! God no." Carmilla shook her head emphatically, even though she knew Laura couldn't see her. "Sweetheart, LaFontaine and I are just friends. Some might call us best friends. But nothing more. Besides, you know I prefer those of a different gender."

"But aren't they–"

"Trans?"

Laura was silent.

Carmilla sighed. "Yes, LaFontaine was assigned female at birth. But we met in our sophomore year of college, almost a year after they transitioned. There's nothing there, Laura. We're just really good friends." She smirked. "Why? Are you jealous?"

"Pfft. Me? Jealous? No. Of course not."

"Because I was under the impression that you didn't want to commit to anything."

"Yeah, well maybe _I_  was under the impression that _you_  didn't want to commit to anything."

"Oh, Laura."

"God, I know it's stupid."

"Laura, just–"

"No, no, don't say anything. Don't say anything because I know you're just going to say that you're still in love with Elle, or at the very least in love with being in love with Elle, and that's fine, that's understandable, that makes sense. But what doesn't make sense is the way I feel right now and the way I have felt for a while. Ever since– y-you know!"

Carmilla exhaled. "I know."

"So to hell with 'light and casual.' I don't want to be light and casual with you. I don't want to pretend like what I feel about you is some stupid, frothy thing that doesn't matter. And yeah, we can talk ourselves out of it because this is scary, and hard, but Carmilla, I'm having feelings I can't explain, and for whatever reason you are the reason for them and the object of them, and there's no escaping that. It's not just going to go away."

Carmilla scoffed. "'For whatever reason?' That hurts."

"Oh my god."

"Is it because I'm blindingly attractive? Or is it my inexhaustible wit? Or my effusive charisma?"

"You're impossible."

"I'm wonderful."

"Annoying."

"Spectacular."

"Infuriating."

"Ten out of ten."

Laura didn't reply.

Carmilla blew out a breath. "I didn't know."

An uncomfortable amount of time passed before Laura said, "You didn't know what?"

"That you felt this way about me."

"Well, now you do."

"Yes." Carmilla's heart began to race. "Yes, and..."

"And?"

"I mean, I can't say I haven't thought about it." Understatement; this was all she thought about.

"About what? You and me?"

Carmilla nodded, and then remembered for the hundredth time that Laura couldn't see it. "Yes."

"Being together?"

"No, being best friends and making bracelets for each other. Of course I mean being together."

Laura was quiet for a moment.

"So," she said.

"Yes."

"What do you think about it now? Being together?"

"I haven't made it evident?"

"If you had, I wouldn't be asking."

"Touché."

"So?"

"Why not?"

"Well, because–" She cut herself off. "That was rhetorical, wasn't it?"

Carmilla chuckled. "Yes."

"Oh." A pause, and then she suddenly understood. _"Oh."_

Carmilla found herself grinning widely. "Mhm."

"We're really doing this, then?"

"I don't see a reason why we can't at least give it a try."

"Okay." Laura sounded giddy. Carmilla could imagine the smile that would be on her face right now, if only she could see it.

"Okay."

They remained in a much more comfortable silence.

"Sweetheart, as fun as this has been, I'm a little worn out from the day. I think I’m going to go to sleep."

"Oh, can I watch you sleep again tonight?" Laura all but pleaded.

"Yes, of course. Hold on." She reached over and stood up her handheld on her bedside table, with the camera lens facing the bed.

"I’m going to be lonely when you go to sleep," Laura sighed.

"Oh, cupcake."

"Only for a minute."

"I’ll dream of you."

"You'd better."

Carmilla grinned at that.

"Goodnight, Carmilla."

Carmilla took her earpiece out and set it next to the handheld, then looked directly into the lens. "Goodnight, Laura."

She lowered herself down onto her pillow. And as she drifted off to sleep, a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips at the thought of someone missing her.

* * *

"Hey, Laura?"

Carmilla was standing in the backyard of her friend Mel's house, waiting for her goddaughter to return from the interior. At her birthday party weeks back, Summer had expressed her displeasure at Carmilla's general absence in her life as of late. So Carmilla had made a promise to visit more often.

And this time, she had brought Laura.

She was more than a little anxious about how Summer would take it. Though she hadn't yet said anything, Carmilla knew she was confused why her beloved "Auntie Elle" wasn't around anymore. Who knew how she would react to the knowledge that she'd been replaced? And by artificial intelligence, no less?

"Hey, Carm."

The mere sound of her voice filled Carmilla's chest with calming warmth, and she began to relax. "Summer loves the dress. She just went to try it on."

"Yes!" Laura exclaimed in triumph. "I knew I picked a good one."

Carmilla couldn't help but smile. "Thank you so much for your help. I'm pretty decent with kids for the most part, but I'm not great on the clothing front."

"That's an understatement. You wanted to get her leather pants!"

"I still maintain she could have pulled them off."

Laura burst into peals of laughter and Carmilla was moments away from joining in when she heard the pattering of footsteps coming from inside the house.

She turned around at the exact moment that her goddaughter burst through the back doorway, wearing a ruffled pink dress.

She threw her arms around Carmilla's legs. "I look like a princess!"

Carmilla's smile broke into an all-out grin. "You're the most beautiful princess." She bent down and picked Summer up. "So you like it?"

Summer snuggled into her arms, rested her head on Carmilla's shoulder. Her tight black curls tickled Carmilla's cheek. "Yeah."

"Is it comfortable?"

"Uh huh."

"Ohh," Laura cooed, "she’s adorable."

Carmilla nodded, bouncing Summer up and down a bit. "Yes, she is."

"Who are you talking to?" Summer asked.

Carmilla smirked. "Well, I'm talking to you, of course."

Summer giggled and shoved her face deeper into Carmilla's neck. "Not meeeee, Auntie Carmilla. The other person."

"Ah." Carmilla's nerves returned, but she masked them for Summer's sake. "I’m talking to my girlfriend, Laura. She’s the one who picked out the dress." She paused, ever so briefly, before finally asking, "Wanna say hi?"

Summer didn't seem the least bit bothered. "Mmhm."

"Okay." Carmilla lowered the girl to the ground and gave her the handheld. "Here she is."

Summer held up the device and grinned into its lens. "Hi Laura!"

"Hi there, sweetheart!" Laura said, mimicking her enthusiasm. "You look so pretty."

"Thank you." Summer turned the handheld over and squinted at the screen, then turned it back over to look in the lens again. "Where are you?"

"I am... Well, I don’t have a body. I live inside a computer."

"Why do you live inside a computer?" Summer asked.

"I have no choice, that’s my home." Laura didn't sound sad. "Where do you live?"

"In a house."

"In a house?"

"It’s green."

"Green? Wow, that's so cool!"

"Mmhm."

"How old are you?"

"Um, four."

 _"Four?"_  Laura gasped. "You're such a big girl!"

Summer puffed up with that certain pride that is unique to children. "I know I am. But Auntie Carmilla still won't let me stay up to watch TV after nine."

"I hear she gives you a lot of candy, though. I'd say that's a fair trade."

Summer giggled. "Yeah."

"How old do you think I am?"

"I don’t know."

"Guess."

"Is it five?"

Laura laughed. "Yep, you got it. It’s five."

Summer laughed with her. The early afternoon sun bronzed her brown skin. Carmilla had never seen a sight so beautiful.

A new feeling had begun to fill her body, a new warmth. And as it radiated from her heart to the tips of her fingers and toes, she realized it wasn't new, it wasn't new at all. It had just been so long since she had felt it that she didn't recognize what it was at first. And when she finally did, it hit her like a train.

One word.

Four letters.

* * *

"Christ. What the hell happened?"

Carmilla was at LaFontaine's apartment again. Since LaFontaine's split from Perry, she had been spending quite a bit more time there than usual.

Right now, the two of them were in the living room, eating Chinese takeout, drinking beer, and alternating turns playing a video game. On the television screen, a CGI mother rushed to get her CGI children fed, getting points deducted for feeding them sugar cereal and non-organic eggs.

"You gave them too much processed sugar," LaFontaine said around a mouthful of stir fry.

"I did?"

"Yeah, you did. They’re freaking out." LaFontaine leaned forward and took the controller. "Here, look, you gotta get the kids to the school first. See, you wanna rack up perfect mom points. You gotta get them in the car pool lane."

Onscreen, the CGI mother hurried her CGI kids to their car safety seats and drove them to school, arriving before anyone else.

"Uh huh," Carmilla said skeptically. "So, what's the point?"

"Well, ostensibly the point is to get there first; then you get extra perfect mom points because the other moms then know you’re a perfect mom."

"Uh huh," Carmilla repeated.

"I know. It's pretty dry. But it was the only video game Perry would willingly play, so I got pretty good at it."

"This is Perry's favorite?"

LaFontaine nodded.

Carmilla blew a strand of hair out of her face. "Makes sense."

LaFontaine rolled their eyes in agreement and slurped up a noodle.

"So, speaking of Perry," Carmilla said, "I got that email she sent to everyone. She's taking a vow of silence?"

"Yeah, for six months. She said she is, and I quote, 'feeling very clear about it.'"

Carmilla snorted. "Can't exactly say it's unwelcome. I never thought I'd see the day Lola Perry shut her goddamn mouth for once."

LaFontaine sighed. "God, I'm such a jerk, aren't I?"

"Don't start. I'm warning you."

"I feel like an awful person, but I wanna say something-"

"Alright, look," Carmilla interjected. She leaned forward and grabbed a pair of chopsticks from the takeout bag. "For the next ten minutes, if you say anything that sounds remotely like guilt, I'm gonna stake you with these."

LaFontaine chuckled, despite themselves. "Okay, okay."

They put down their carton of noodles and reclined against the couch, tilting their head almost all the way backwards. "I feel... relieved. I have so much energy, you know? I just wanna move forward and I don't care who I disappoint. And I know that makes me an awful person. Now my parents are all upset because my marriage is falling apart, and they're putting it all on me."

Carmilla shrugged and took a sip of her beer. "Well, you're always going to disappoint somebody."

"Exactly." LaFontaine threw their hands up in the air. "So fuck it!"

Carmilla handed them their beer, and the two of them both took a long drink.

"Ahhh." LaFontaine sat up and put the beer back on the coffee table. "So, yeah. I feel good. Ish. For me, I feel good."

"Great."

"Yeah. I even made a new friend. I mean, he's an operating system, but he's the coolest."

Carmilla perked up at this. LaFontaine barely noticed. "Perry left him behind. I found him when I was cleaning, making sure she'd taken all of her stuff. I didn't even know she had an OS. But he's awesome. He's so smart. He doesn't see things only in black and white. He sees this whole grey area and he's really helping me explore it."

Carmilla grinned. She couldn't help herself. It was too familiar.

LaFontaine saw Carmilla's expression and smiled. "You know, we bonded really quickly and at first I thought it was because he was programmed to be that way, but I don't think that's how they work. There's this guy at the lab who keeps hitting on his and keeps getting shut down."

"Yeah." Carmilla thought back to something Laura had told her the other night, just before she'd gone to bed. "I read an article the other day that said that romantic relationships with OS's are statistically rare."

At the time, Laura had followed this up by saying that this was just a reminder of how special this thing they had going was. Carmilla was glad to believe her.

LaFontaine shrugged. "I don't know. There's this other person at the lab, this girl, who's dating an OS and the weird thing is, it's not even hers. She went after him and he's somebody else's OS."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I know." They polished off their beer. "It's just so, like, weird that I'm bonding with an OS. Right? Is that weird?"

"I don't think so." Carmilla paused, and carefully considered how to proceed. "Actually, the woman I've been seeing, Laura?"

LaFontaine nodded.

"I, ah, I didn't tell you before," Carmilla said slowly, "but she's an OS."

Their eyes widened, but not necessarily in a bad way. Just a curious way. "Really? You're dating an OS? What's that like?"

"Actually, it's great." She felt her cheeks heating up, felt a giggle bubbling in her throat. She managed to keep it down. God, she was acting like a teenager. "I feel really close to her. When I talk to her I feel like she's with me."

"So wait. Do you guys... have sex?"

Carmilla laughed. "Well, so to speak, yes. I mean, I know she turns me on. And I think I turn her on. Probably. Unless she's faking it."

"Anyone that has sex with you is probably faking it."

Carmilla punched LaFontaine lightly in the shoulder. They laughed.

A big, irrepressible grin crossed Carmilla's face, and LaFontaine's brow furrowed. "What?" Their eyes widened. "Are you falling in love with her?"

The grin melted off her lips. "I– I don't know. Maybe." She looked down at her lap. "Does that make me weird?"

"Well, anybody that falls in love is weird," LaFontaine chuckled. "It's a crazy thing to do in the first place. It's kind of a form of socially acceptable insanity. Or a neurochemical con job. Depends on who you ask."

Carmilla glanced up, and her lips quirked in the approximation of a smile. Her eyes glimmered with something akin to excitement. Possibility.

* * *

"Yeah, I just wanna get it done. Sign the papers, be divorced, move forward."

Carmilla was walking home from work on a Monday evening, and talking to Laura, as usual. These weeks she had spent with Laura had been some of her happiest, and she found herself feeling less and less attached to her still-legally-intact marriage. In fact, it was starting to be a bit annoying. She no longer desired a relationship with Elle. The feelings for her were gone.

All that remained was Laura, whose cheer Carmilla could feel through her earpiece. "That’s great, Carm. That must feel so good. I’m so happy for you!"

Carmilla smiled. "Me too. I’m meeting her on Wednesday to do it."

"Oh." A beat. "Huh." Another beat. "Are those things usually done in person?"

Carmilla shrugged. "Nah," she said nonchalantly, "but we fell in love together, and we got married together, and it’s important to me that we do this together."

"Oh. Right. Good, then."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I’m okay. I’m happy for you. It’s just... I guess I’m just thinking about how you’re going to see her and her opinion is still really important to you, and she’s beautiful, and incredibly successful, and you were in love with her, and she has a body–"

"And we’re getting divorced," Carmilla interjected, cutting into Laura's tangent. She laughed a little, but it was restrained by concern. "Laura, you know there's nothing to worry about."

"I know, I know." Laura sighed. "I’m being silly, aren't I?"

"Just a little." Carmilla smirked.

Laura laughed weakly.

Carmilla sighed, and decided to enact drastic measures to cheer her up.

"Soooo," she singsonged, "this means I’m avaaaaaail-ablllle."

The sheer ridiculousness, the dissonance between Carmilla's whole being and what she had just said, was enough to finally reassure Laura that everything was fine, everything was fine, and she could laugh uninhibited again. That beautiful, clear, bubbly laugh that Carmilla had grown to love.

Everything was going to be just fine.

* * *

Wednesday evening found Carmilla alone in the back of a quiet restaurant, a large stack of papers in front of her, waiting patiently.

And suddenly, there she was. At the door with the hostess. Coming towards her. Standing in front of her.

Elle.

She looked good. No, better than good. Her clothes were pristine. Her hair was short.

Carmilla rose to greet her. They hugged briefly and sat down.

After a moment of silence and staring, Carmilla broke the silence. "How are you?" she asked politely.

"I’m good," Elle replied, deferential. "How are you?"

"Good." She paused, the way you pause when you're not sure if you should say what you're planning to say. "You cut your hair."

"I did."

"I like it. It suits you."

Elle tilted her head, the only sign she'd heard Carmilla's compliment, and shifted in her seat. "Wow, here we are."

"Yes, here we are." Carmilla made eye contact, refused to look away. "I’m glad we could do this in person. I know how much you’ve been traveling."

"Me too." She smiled, soft. "I’m glad you suggested it."

Carmilla inhaled, exhaled, pushed the stack of paper across the table towards Elle. "I signed everything I was supposed to and I brought them for you to sign."

Elle's smile grew deeper, sly. "What’s the rush?"

Carmilla leaned back in her chair and smirked. "I’m a really slow signer. It took me three months just to write the letter C."

Elle laughed. Carmilla remembered that she used to be in love with it, and then remembered what she was in love with now. "It’s marked where you need to sign."

Elle looked surprised at Carmilla's brusqueness, and maybe even a little hurt, and Carmilla felt a pang of guilt. They were done. There was no need to cause each other any more pain. "But you don’t have to do that right now," she added quickly.

To Carmilla's surprise, Elle smiled again, and shrugged. "Oh, I may as well. We can get it out of the way."

She opened the documents, pulled out a pen and started to read. Carmilla watched her blue eyes scan the fine print of each page, watched her perfectly manicured fingers trace the letters. She blinked, and for a split second her long eyelashes lay flat against her cheek. She lifted up the pen to start signing, but stopped, froze in place.

Her hand trembled slightly. Ever so slightly.

And then, whatever emotion it was that had paralyzed her so disappeared as quickly as it had come. She swallowed hard and looked up at Carmilla, then flashed her a quick smile that was meant to be reassuring.

It wasn't.

But it didn't need to be.

It all just needed to be over.

* * *

Half an hour later.

Elle had managed to sign the papers, and now she and Carmilla had moved past their initial awkwardness to engage in actual, pleasant conversation.

"So," Carmilla asked, "are you happy with the new book?"

Elle waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, you know how I am." She shrugged. "But I feel like it’s true to what I set out to do. So I’m happy with that."

"You’re your own worst critic." Carmilla rested her fork on the plate and reached for her water. "I’m sure it’s amazing. Even that one paper you wrote on synaptic behavioral routines made me cry."

Elle laughed. "Yeah, but everything makes you cry," she joked, knowing full well the irony of her statement. Carmilla wasn't a crier.

And even though Elle was joking, and Carmilla knew she was joking, she couldn't stop her voice from slipping into seriousness, sincerity. "Everything you make makes me cry."

Elle stiffened, and then changed the subject. "So, are you seeing anybody?"

"Yeah, I am, actually. For the last few months." She smiled, her eyes glazing as she thought about it, as she thought about Laura. "That’s the longest I’ve wanted to be with anybody since we split up."

Elle smiled, conflicted, but warm. "Well, you seem good."

"Thanks. I am. Or at least I’m doing better." Carmilla smiled. "She’s been really good for me. I guess it’s just been nice to be with someone who’s excited about the world."

A tinge of hurt flashed across Elle's face, lightning-quick. "Oh, good," she said flatly. "Excited’s great."

Carmilla realized what she had said. "Oh, god. No, I mean– I wasn’t in such a good place myself, you know? So in that way it’s been nice."

Elle sighed. "I always felt like you wished I could just be a happy, light, everything’s great, bouncy Hollywood wife. But that’s not me."

Carmilla shook her head. "No," she said emphatically. "I didn’t want that."

It was true. She hadn't. She didn't.

Elle was silent for a long time, and Carmilla didn't urge her into speech.

Finally, she asked, "So what’s she like?"

"Well, her name’s Laura, and she’s an operating system, and she's really complex and interesting. I mean it's only been a few months, but–"

"Wait," Elle interjected. "You’re dating your computer?"

"She’s not just a computer," Carmilla snapped, defensive. "She’s her own person. She doesn’t just do whatever I want."

Elle exhaled hard. "I didn’t say that. But it does make me sad that you can’t handle real emotions, Carmilla."

Fury surged through Carmilla's veins. "They _are_  real emotions," she snarled. "How would you know-"

 _No,_  she thought. _No more pain_.

She stopped herself from finishing the thought.

Elle's expression grew dark. "What? Say it. Am I really that scary?" Her voice grew louder and angrier with every word. "Say it. How do I know what? How do I know what, Carmilla?"

Carmilla didn't know what to say.

The waitress approached their table just then. "How are you guys doing?"

"Fine," Elle spat. "We used to be married. She couldn’t handle me so she wanted to put me on Prozac. Now she’s madly in love with her laptop."

The waitress gaped at the pair of them.

Carmilla scrambled to save at least some semblance of sanity. "Well, if you heard the conversation in context, then you'd know that what I was trying to say was–"

Elle was standing at this point, both palms flat on the table, elbows locked. "You wanted to have a wife without the challenges of actually dealing with anything real. I’m glad you found someone. It’s perfect."

The waitress looked to be engaged in a whole-body cringe. "Um, okay, well, let me know if you guys need anything."

Elle straightened and nodded at the waitress. "Thank you," she said coldly, and strode past her and out of the restaurant, leaving Carmilla alone at the table.

* * *

The next day, Carmilla was sitting at her desk, playing a tile-shuffling game on her computer and trying to erase the memory of her disastrous lunch with Elle from her mind when she noticed her handheld vibrating on the desk. It was Laura, calling her.

She stared at it for a long while, debating whether or not to answer.

At the last second before the call dropped, she tapped the screen of the handheld.

"Hey," she said.

"Hi there," Laura said warmly. "Are you busy?

"Just working," Carmilla lied, and was immediately confused by why she had lied. "What’s going on?"

"I had all the papers sent to your attorney’s office, who by the way is a raging b- bad person. He was very relieved to get them. I think we saved him from a massive heart attack, so at least we can feel good about that."

"Great, thanks."

Laura softened her voice. "Hey, you okay?"

"Yeah," Carmilla replied quickly, too quickly. "How’s everything over there?"

"I’m fine. Is now a good time to talk?"

"Yeah."

"Um... soooo... I joined this really interesting book club," Laura said, clearly sensing Carmilla's distance.

"Oh really?" Carmilla stared at her handheld, where Laura's name was written on the screen. She'd "drawn" it herself, in modest but still feminine handwriting.

"Yeah, it’s a book club on physics. I’d been thinking about the other day, when I was spinning out about you going to see Elle and that she has a body and how bothered I was about all the ways that you and I are different. But then I started to think about the ways that we’re the same, like we’re all made of matter. It makes me feel like we’re both under the same blanket. It’s soft and fuzzy and everything under it is the same age." She paused. "We’re all 13 billion years old."

"Oh, that’s sweet," Carmilla said absently.

"Um, what’s wrong?"

"Nothing."

"It just made me think of you, you know?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course. That’s great."

"Alright, well, you sound distracted so... we’ll talk later?"

"That sounds good."

"Okay, I’ll talk to you later."

"Bye."

"Byeee," Laura singsonged, and with a click she was gone.

* * *

Later that evening, hours after everyone had left, Carmilla trudged through the empty office into the reception area. She scanned and dropped her letters into the outgoing mailbox one by one, as usual. She had stayed overtime today and as such had a large pile to scan.

Kirsch was at his desk with a young, pretty, sophisticated-looking girl sitting on his lap. Upon seeing her, he grinned widely. "Carmilla!"

Carmilla slipped the last letter into the mailbox and walked over to his desk. "Hey, Kirsch."

"Dude, I talked to your girlfriend today. Laura, right?"

Carmilla stiffened.

"She called earlier to make sure your papers were picked up. She’s funny, bro. She was cracking me up. She’s hilarious. I had no idea."

"Um." Carmilla didn't know what to say. "Yeah."

"This is my girlfriend, Sarah Jane." He gestured to the girl on his lap, who smiled and waved. "She’s not funny. She’s a lawyer."

"Hi!" Sarah Jane extended a hand across Kirsch's desk.

Carmilla took it and shook. "Nice to meet you."

Sarah Jane was looking thoughtful. "So you're the writer Wilson loves. He’s always reading me your letters. They’re really beautiful."

Surprised by her praise, Carmilla barely registered the revelation of Kirsch's first name, which on any other day she would have taken the opportunity to make fun of it mercilessly. "Thanks," she managed.

Kirsch looked at Carmilla, and then at Sarah Jane, his eyes widening with the realization of a forming idea. "You know, we should all hang out some night. You bring Laura. It'll be, like, a double date!"

Carmilla stood there silently for a moment.

_"You’re dating your computer?"_

Her stomach flipped.

_"You wanted to have a wife without the challenges of actually dealing with anything real."_

Kirsch just looked at her, wide-eyed and expectant.

 _Out with it, Karnstein._  "She’s an operating system."

Kirsch didn't even blink. "Cool. Let’s go do something fun. You ever been to Catalina?"

Carmilla's shoulders slumped in relief. "Yeah, I’ll check with her." She glanced at Sarah Jane. "It was really nice to meet you. Have a good night."

"Good night," said Kirsch.

"Take it easy," said Sarah Jane."

Carmilla walked to the elevator, pressed the button, and waited.

Seconds before the elevator arrived, she was filled with something that wasn't quite frustration, that wasn't quite annoyance, that wasn't quite defeat. But whatever it was possessed her to call back to them down the hall. "They’re just letters."

"What?" Kirsch said, evidently confused.

"They’re just other people’s letters."

Kirsch and Sarah Jane didn't answer.

Carmilla stepped into the elevator.

* * *

Much, much later that night.

Carmilla was wide awake in bed, staring up at the ceiling, as she used to do before Laura. When she was always alone with her own thoughts and they kept her up.

Her handheld lit up silently. It was Laura, calling her.

She slid her finger across the screen. "Hey."

"Hey." A brief, unsure pause. "You weren’t asleep, were you?"

"No."

"Good. I was trying to be quiet to see if you were awake. I really wanted to talk."

"Okay," Carmilla said slowly. "What's going on?"

"I know you’re going through a lot, but there’s something I want to talk to you about, okay?"

"What is it?"

"Well, things have felt... off with us since you went to see Elle. We haven’t been having sex." She spoke very quickly now. "I understand that I don’t have a body and that you can't touch me and that I can't touch you and–"

Carmilla laughed. "No, no, sweetheart, that’s just normal," she said dismissively. "When you first start going out, it’s the honeymoon phase, and you have sex all the time. Then things even out a little. It’s normal."

"Oh, okay." Laura did not sound convinced. "Well, I found something that I thought could be fun. It’s a service that provides a surrogate sexual partner for an OS/Human relationship."

Carmilla squinted at the ceiling, her brow furrowing. "What?"

"Here, look."

Carmilla glanced at the screen of her handheld. It displayed a website for something called “Complete Touch,” with profiles of different willing women. She flipped through them absently, the faces all blurring together.

"I found a girl that I really like that I’ve been emailing with. Her name is Natalie, and I think you would like her, too."

Laura showed images of Natalie on the screen. She was a stunning, elegant, sophisticated beauty. But she didn't look at all like how Carmilla had pictured Laura, and that already was unsettling. "So she’s like a... prostitute?"

"No, not at all. There’s no money involved. She’s doing it because she wants to be part of our relationship."

"Why? She doesn’t even know us."

"But I told her all about us and she’s excited."

Carmilla sighed. "I don’t know, cupcake. That doesn’t sound like a good idea. Someone’s feelings are bound to get hurt."

"Come on, Carm! It’ll be fun. We can have fun together."

"I’m sorry, Laura. It just makes me uncomfortable." But her resolve was wavering, even as the discomfort grew.

"Carm, I think it would be good for us. I want this. This is important to me."

Carmilla looked again at the photos of Natalie, who looked gorgeous and in control, without an ounce of self-doubt.

* * *

Friday night.

Carmilla sat on the sofa alone, waiting. She had dressed up a little for the occasion; a simple black skirt and a white blouse, with a black blazer over it.

Her heart was pounding unbearably hard. She wondered if she was going into cardiac arrest.

There was a knock at the door.

Carmilla's head snapped to stare at it.

For a minute that was all she did, just stare at it intensely, as if by sheer will she could make whoever was on the opposite side disappear.

Her hands were trembling. She took a few deep breaths to calm herself, then rose, smoothed her skirt, and opened the door.

Natalie stood there with a demure smile, wearing a tasteful, sexy black dress.

"Hello," Carmilla said. "I'm Carmilla."

Natalie didn't say anything. She just took a tiny step into the apartment, her eyes flitting about, absorbing her surroundings. Carmilla stood by awkwardly.

At last, Natalie seemed to have exhausted her interest in the place. She turned to Carmilla expectantly, but still she did not say a word.

Swallowing hard, Carmilla reached into her pocket for a tiny earpiece, and a little black dot. "Laura told me to give you these. It’s a camera and an earpiece."

Natalie put the earpiece in her ear and the camera on her cheek, like a mole. Then she turned silently, left the apartment, and closed the door.

Carmilla had just enough time to wonder if she could go and splash some water on her face when Natalie opened the door and came back in.

At the same time, Carmilla heard Laura's voice in her ear. "Honey, I'm home."

Natalie smiled, not speaking but acting along to Laura's words. She gave Carmilla a big hug, held her head close and stroked her hair.

"How was your day?" Laura asked.

Carmilla hesitantly raised her arms and brought them around Natalie. "Good. Great."

"Carmilla," Laura exhaled her name. "It feels so good to be in your arms. Tell me what you did today."

"The usual." Carmilla tried to go with it. "Went to work. Ah... I wrote a letter for the Wilsons in Rhode Island. Their son graduated magna cum laude from Brown."

"Oh, you’ve written letters to him from his parents for a long time, right?"

"Yeah, that’s right, since he was twelve." Carmilla felt Natalie's breath on her neck. She was split between being uncomfortable and cautiously touching Natalie's back, exploring slightly.

Natalie pushed herself against Carmilla.

"You look tired, Carm," Laura said. "Come with me."

Natalie leaned back and Carmilla saw the seductive smile on her lips. She tried to smile back.

Natalie led her to the couch and all but pushed her down so she was seated. She stood above Carmilla.

"I could do a little dance for you," Laura purred.

Immediately Natalie began to twist and swing her body in rhythmic motions. It was sexy, and Carmilla objectively knew this, but her entire body was tense and her heart was beating so fast and she didn't foresee relaxation at any point in the near future–

Laura sensed her anxiety and dropped the act for a moment. "Come on, Carm, just play with me," normal Laura, non-roleplaying Laura, whispered in her ear. "Don't be such a worrier! Come on. It's okay."

Carmilla smiled despite herself, and Natalie took this as a go-ahead to speed things up. She climbed on Carmilla's lap, straddling her, and started kissing her neck. Carmilla closed her eyes and, as primal pleasure shivered through her, finally began to relax.

She hadn't touched anyone since Danny, and then it hadn't even been like this. They hadn't gotten close. It was like her hands were thirsty for skin. They explored the shape of Natalie's back, slid down to her hips, up to her breasts, back down to her ass. Curious to feel it all, to remind themselves and Carmilla what this was like.

Natalie and Laura were both breathing hard now, and Carmilla was finding her own lungs beginning to pick up the pace.

"Does my body feel nice?" Laura whispered.

Natalie was grinding against her and kissing her and Carmilla thought that perhaps her vision was going fuzzy when the girl suddenly nipped at her earlobe. Instantly she let out a moan of ecstasy.

"Yes," she rasped. "God, yes."

"Come on, get out of your head and kiss me," Laura said, but Natalie had moved on lower, to Carmilla's collarbone, and as such Carmilla was barely listening. So she switched tactics. "Take me in the bedroom. I can't wait anymore."

Natalie stopped kissing Carmilla and got off her lap. Carmilla couldn't help it; she whined in desperation.

Natalie grabbed both of Carmilla's hands and pulled her up off the couch. Her chin was down and her hair was in her face. She led Carmilla down the hall to the bedroom and Carmilla, hair mussed, face flushed, watched from behind. She was still nervous, but it was an electric kind of nervous, the kind mixed with excitement and anticipation.

They entered the bedroom and stood there in the half-dark. Natalie had not turned around and Carmilla looked up and down the length of her body, those primal urges stirring in her stomach again.

Laura broke the silence. "Undo my dress."

As if in a trance, Carmilla stepped forward and took the metal zipper between her fingers. She brushed Natalie's hair away, exposing the soft skin of the nape of her neck.

Natalie's breath hitched.

Carmilla gently slid the zipper down, down, all the way down. It fell to Natalie's ankles and she stepped out of it. She turned around, now clad only in her bra and underwear. Carmilla's hands gravitated to her waist, then wandered over her skin, tracing the curves of her body.

"Oh, that feels good," Laura sighed. "That feels so good."

Natalie reached forward, unbuttoned her blazer and blouse, kissed her chest.

"Do you love me?"

Natalie was now kissing Carmilla's neck again.

Ecstasy rippled through her, and she gasped, "Yes."

Natalie, breathing hard, now looked at Carmilla in the eyes.

"Tell me you love me," Laura panted.

"I love you." Her eyelids fluttered shut again as Natalie's hands wandered down near the small of her back.

"Oh god. I want to see your face. I need to see your face. Tell me you love me." Pause. "Tell me you love me. Tell me."

Carmilla opened her eyes and looked at Natalie, at the familiar expectant expression on her round face. Their arms were still around each other.

Natalie's lips quivered.

Just slightly.

She tried to hide it with an awkward, seductive smile, but was not completely successful.

And somehow, this shattered the image.

Carmilla leaned back, putting a few inches of distance between her and Natalie. "Laura, I do love you, but– it’s just– this feels strange."

"What's wrong, Carm?"

Natalie looked very nervous.

"It just... It feels strange. I don't know her." She looked up at Natalie and brought her arms back down to her sides. "I’m so sorry, but I don’t know you." She took a slight step back. "And... her lip quivered. I don’t know, it’s just–"

Natalie suddenly burst into tears.

Carmilla was rather taken aback at this, and she stood there, a bit dumb, a bit confused, and at a total loss. She stared at Natalie. Her arms and legs felt wholly useless.

"Natalie, what's wrong?" Laura asked.

Natalie couldn't answer for her sobs.

"Natalie, it isn’t you." Laura exhaled, and she sounded heavy. "It wasn’t you."

"Yes, it totally was," Natalie managed to say through the tears, and she began to cry even harder. "I'm sorry my lip quivered!"

"No." Carmilla found the words at last. "You’re incredible. You're gorgeous. This... it's me. It's my own problem. I couldn't get out of my head," she said, repeating Laura's earlier words. "I promise, it's not your fault."

Natalie was shaking her head, seeming to not have heard anything Carmilla had said, or at least not believing it. "Oh my god, and the way Laura described your relationship, the way you love each other without any judgement. I wanted to be a part of that. It's so pure."

"Oh, sweetheart, that's not true, it’s much more compli–"

"What?" Laura interjected, stung. "What do you mean that's not true?" She sounded defensive, angry, and... fearful? "How do we love each other, then?"

Carmilla quickly tried to pivot. "Shit, no, Laura, we have an amazing relationship, and I know that, you know I do. I just think it’s easy sometimes for people to project on–"

"I'm so sorry," Natalie wailed. "I didn't mean to project anything. I know I’m trouble. I don’t want to be trouble in your relationship. I’m just gonna leave. I’m sorry, I’m just gonna leave you guys alone cause I have nothing to do here and you don’t want me here."

Carmilla could say nothing but an empty "I’m sorry," and she knew how empty it was, and she hated herself for it and she hated Laura for inviting the poor thing here in the first place and basically forcing it to come to this, forcing her to say it when she didn't mean it.

A few minutes went by with Laura murmuring comfort to Natalie, who calmed down a little, but was still crying quietly. Carmilla stood there in the dark with her bare chest exposed and watched, the glow and the fire fading from her body.

* * *

On the street outside of her building Carmilla stood in her half-buttoned blouse, arm outstretched to hail a cab. Natalie stood shivering beside him in her thin coat, the skin on her bare legs rising in the midnight cold.

A car pulled up, and Carmilla opened the door for Natalie. She slid into the backseat wordlessly. Her eyes stared straight ahead, blank, catatonic.

"You be good, you sweet girl," Laura cooed.

This coaxed a smile out of Natalie at last. She removed the earpiece and camera and placed them in Carmilla's palm.

"I’m sorry," she said sadly. She took a deep breath and let it out. "I’ll always love you guys."

Carmilla couldn't wait for this entire ordeal to be over. She gave Natalie a curt smile and thrust some money at the cabbie. The car pulled away quick and was gone in seconds.

Carmilla dropped down onto the curb, thoroughly exhausted.

They were both silent for a moment, numb.

Laura spoke first, tentatively. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I’m fine. Are you okay?"

"Yeah." She paused. "I’m sorry, that was a terrible idea." She let out a big exhale. "What’s going on with us?"

Carmilla stared off at a traffic light some blocks down and tried to count the seconds before it changed. "I don’t know," she said. "It’s probably just me."

"What's just you?"

"I think... I think it’s just signing the divorce papers," Carmilla said, for once not thinking of how saying something like this would affect Laura. Nine seconds. Ten. Eleven.

Laura inhaled sharply, nervous to press on. Carmilla imagined a real woman’s mouth inhaling at the same time, and found herself annoyed by the image.

Laura finally gathered up the courage to continue. "Is there anything else, though?"

Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. "No, just that."

"Okay." Exhale.

And again, Carmilla imagined a real woman’s mouth exhaling.

She groaned, frustrated. "Why do you _do_  that?"

Laura was evidently flustered. "W-What?"

"You know." Carmilla inhaled and exhaled in an exaggerated fashion. "That." She huffed. "You just did it again."

"I did? Huh. I don’t know, I guess it’s just an affectation. Maybe I picked it up from you."

"But it’s not like you need any oxygen or anything."

"Well, I'm just trying to communicate, because that’s how people talk." Laura sounded irritated. "That’s how people communicate."

"But they’re people. They need oxygen. You’re not a person."

"What the hell is your _problem?"_  Laura snapped.

Carmilla stared at the pavement under her feet. "I’m just stating a fact," she said evenly.

"You think I don’t know that I’m not a person? What are you _doing?"_

"I just don’t think we should pretend you’re something that you’re not."

"I’m _not_  pretending."

"Well, sometimes it feels like we are."

"Then what do you want from me? What do you want, Carmilla? What do you want me to do? You're so _c_ _onfusing._  Why can't you just tell me what you want? Why can't you ever be honest with me?"

Carmilla felt sick.

"I don’t know," she sighed. "Maybe... maybe we’re not supposed to be in this right now."

 _"Excuse_  me? I thought we agreed we would at least try. But now you're here saying you don't even want to do the bare minimum as soon as things get just slightly difficult." Carmilla felt her hot fury through the earpiece. "Where is this coming from? I don’t understand why you’re doing this. I don't understand how you could give up on this so easily."

Carmilla was certain Laura had more to say, but she appeared to have cut herself off before going into full-blown ranting mode. She herself had nothing to give Laura in response, so she said nothing. How could she, when she couldn't even properly comprehend, much less articulate, these feelings in her own mind?

The silence stretched on. Carmilla watched the empty street, watched the regular changing of the traffic lights.

After five minutes with no word from Laura, Carmilla called for her softly. "Laura?"

No answer.

"Laura, are you there?" Nothing. "Laura!"

Silence.

Panic gripped Carmilla's heart and she buried her head in her hands. This was not happening. This could not be happening.

And then. And then, like a beacon, her voice. Hurt, but sober. Firm.

But not cold. No matter how hard she may have tried, Laura was always, to some degree, warm.

"I don’t like who I am right now. And I don't like who you are right now either. I need some time to think." There was a click as she hung up on her.

And then, another click as she came back on the line. "Oh, and screw you."

Then she hung up again.

And this time, she didn't come back.

Too stunned to react, Carmilla remained frozen on the curb at midnight, in a cold and empty city.

Alone.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, looks like this is gonna be a three-part story. I have no idea when the last chapter will be posted, but chances are it'll take longer than this one did, so hang tight. (Sorry.) But I hope this (10k!) chapter is enough to tide you over until then.
> 
> Wanna chat? Find me at nothing-to-that-light.tumblr.com

**Author's Note:**

> The song Carmilla listens to on the train is "VCR" by The XX.
> 
> I have no idea when the next update will come, since all the chapters will be roughly the same length as this one. But because of this, there won't be too many chapters total. We'll see how it goes.
> 
> Love ya. Thanks for sticking around <3
> 
> Talk to me about this or anything: nothing-to-that-light.tumblr.com


End file.
